


The Lady of the House

by wintergreenroses



Series: The Lady of the House [1]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), RE8, Resident Evil: Village
Genre: Alcina Dimitrescu - Freeform, Aphrodisiacs, Biting, Blood Drinking, Bondage, Cunnilingus, Degradation, Exhibitionism, F/F, Height difference, Impact Play, Lady Dimitrescu - Freeform, Mommy Kink, Period Sex, Strap-Ons, Vaginal Fingering, Vampire Bites, Vampires, reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:34:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29006871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintergreenroses/pseuds/wintergreenroses
Summary: You are sold to Lady Dimitrescu to be her newfound pet. You aren't complaining.
Relationships: Alcina Dimitrescu/reader, Lady Dimitrescu/reader
Series: The Lady of the House [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2181735
Comments: 295
Kudos: 1376





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Don't @ me I'm gay for this 8ft vampire milf and im also nasty. and before you ask--yes, I'm aware this follows the "my mom sold me to one direction" plot, but you know what??? if i was sold to a hot vampire milf i wouldn't be complaining
> 
> now enjoy!

You are awoken in the morning by a rough hand on your shoulder shaking you. You come to and see your caretaker--Richard, a farmer who had been your father's friend before his passing. His family had taken you in when you had nowhere left to go, and you had become something of a maid for them. They treated you well, but never warmly, and there was no real substantial love between you or any of his children.

"Get up, girl," he says gruffly.

You sit up, blinking up at him before looking out the window. It's still dark, and somewhere in your tired mind you realize he never wakes you this early.

"What's going on?"

"Get up," he repeats.

You stand obediently from the bed, crossing your arms over your chest. You are clothed only in your white nightdress, and the cold air chills you now that you're out from under the blankets.

Richard grabs you by the arm and leads you from the place where you sleep in the kitchen to the door of the house.

"I'm not dressed!" You protest. "Please, give me a few moments to get decent-"

"There's no time," he replies.

He isn't looking at you, and you feel a pit growing in your stomach. He's never like this--he was cold but not cruel, and you are starting to grow afraid.

"What's going on?" You repeat.

He stops in front of the door and puts his hands on your shoulders. For the first time today, he meets your eyes.

"You're a strong girl, you're a hard worker," he says. "You'll be fine."

"What do you mean?"

He pushes open the door, and you look outside, your eyes widening.  
A black carriage sits outside, drawn by two large black stallions. A grim-looking footman seems to be waiting for something, and after a moment you dimly realize it's you.

And despite there being no explanation, you know what this means. You look from the man who took you in to the footman, and then up to the dark castle on the hill.

"You can't," you plead softly. "Please, you can't-"

"It's been a hard year," he says, and he's no longer meeting your eye. "Grain didn’t come in. I can barely feed my own kids, let alone you. I can't pay my debts to Lady Dimitrescu…" He looks up at you again. "Our Lady always needs hands. Do the work, keep your head down. You'll be fine."

Tears spring to your eyes despite yourself. "I can't, please don't send me away-"

"Go," he says, and he pushes you towards the carriage.

When you clear the doorway, he shuts the door behind you, leaving you standing in the early hours of morning, barefoot in the snow.

Your teeth start to chatter. If the choice is between freezing here outside or getting in the carriage, you decide you'll take the option that doesn't involve certain death. With the Lady, it's just probable, not certain.

You step forward to the carriage with your arms wrapped tight around yourself.

The footman gives you no pity as he opens the doors, ushering you inside.

The interior of the carriage is fine cloth and comfy seats, and is warmer than the outside. You are grateful for both.

After a moment or two, the carriage shudders forward, the horses starting the trek through the outskirts of the village and up the hill to the castle.

Your heart pounds in your chest with every hoofbeat, the knowledge that every step the horses take is bringing you one step closer to the figure everyone in the village feared.

Everyone knew of the tales of what happened to the girls Lady Dimitrescu took in. They lasted a little while, and then disappeared, never to be heard from again.

Everyone had their theories, but the one that most people took stock in was the idea that the wine that the Dimitrescu house was famous for--the Maiden's Blood--had something to do with it.

Your eyes stay fixed on the castle as it grows closer, and though it's no longer as cold sitting in the carriage, your teeth chatter.

The gates of the castle open before you, yawning like the mouth of hell. A raven caws as the carriage passes through under the battlements, and rolls into the courtyard.

The carriage stops, and after a few moments the footman comes and opens the door. He takes your hand and helps you out, and if it hadn't been the circumstances it was, you would've felt flattered at being treated like a lady.

You stare at the large doors that lead inside, and you swallow thickly. Terror is making your mind race.

The footman urges you forward, and you walk. You walk towards those doors and your mind conjures the worst images possible; things that you feared, things that might happen, the things brought on by rumors, and-

The doors open in front of you, and you are ushered inside.

You are in a foyer, elaborately decorated with gold. A large chandelier hangs from the ceiling, and the light casts odd shadows throughout the room.

The footman leaves you inside and closes the doors behind you, sealing your fate.

You look around, looking for someone, anyone…but you see no one. You stand in the foyer and wait, your hands clasped together in front of you and your head on a swivel as you continue your search for someone.

There's a staircase that leads up to the second floor, with doors at the top. After a few moments of waiting, the doors open in an eerily silent manor that makes your heart beat faster.

A woman in a black dress enters, her hair blonde and her eyes crazed. She takes one look at you and smiles.

"Mother," she calls loudly, her voice melodic and resounding in the space. "Our new girl has arrived."

Loud footsteps echo from deeper within the halls, and you freeze. Your body is screaming at you to run but your feet are stuck and your mind is panicking, and you can't move-

A large brimmed black hat makes its way through the door first, and you realize the person wearing it has had to duck through the doorway to fit. She--for you realize it's a woman quickly by the dress--straightens after passing through the doorway. She stands at the top of the stairs next to the other woman, and looks down at you with a hand on her hip.

She's a large woman with generous breasts and voluptuous hips, and the top of her shoulders clear the top of the doorway she had just passed through. Her hair is dark and neatly curled against her head, and her painted lips turn up in a smile as she sees you.

"So," she says, and her voice is smooth like velvet as it floats down to you, "we finally meet."

You gulp.

"You're our new girl, are you not?"

"I am, Ma'am," you say.

"Oh, she has manners," the taller woman coos. She looks down at the shorter blonde woman. "Daniela, dear," she murmurs, "go tell your sisters that she's arrived."

The shorter woman leaves with a grin, the doors the taller woman had just arrived through shutting behind her.

The taller woman starts her descent down the stairs, speaking. "I am Lady Dimitrescu, the head of the household. And you are?"

You stutter out your name, and she nods, seemingly in good nature.

"Such a pretty name for a pretty thing," she says, and her grin widens.

As she gets closer, you can see that she's older--at least in her late thirties, if not early forties. She has wrinkles at the corners of her mouth when she smiles, and slight crow's feet at the corners of her eyes as they look at you with some sort of satisfaction.

As she comes to a stop in front of you, you pale at her height. She must be eight feet tall, and dwarfs you in every way. You must seem tiny in comparison, and you can't help but thinking that she could easily break you in half if she so chose.

A hand comes down and brushes your hair, smoothing it back. Her eyes rake over you, and your heart stops when they linger on your chest.

"Now, my dear," Lady Dimitrescu starts, her eyes coming back to your face.

The doors she had came from open again and three almost identical blonde woman come to stop at the top of the stairs. They lean against the bannisters and look down at you with the same manic grins on each of their faces.

The Lady doesn't seem to notice her daughters at the top of the stairs, and continues. "You're to work in my manor for as long as you're able. You're to obey my daughters, but to obey me most of all. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good," she hums. "I appreciate manners in a young woman. Now, my dear, there's a contract of sorts in order to work for me. Would you like to commence with it now, or get your bearings first?"

You freeze. Your mind races through the possibilities of what she could possibly mean by "contract," but you're coming up with nothing. You don't know what exaclty she means by "get your bearings" either, but the thought of going through the castle without whatever protection this contract would offer is a more terrifying option.

"I don't like to be kept waiting," Lady Dimitrescu says sharply.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," you say. "I think I would like to sign the contract."

Lady Dimitrescu steps forward, and a hush falls over her daughters at the top of the stairs. The Lady brushes your hair again, looking down at you with a dark gaze.

"My dear," she says, and her voice husks in a way that makes you squirm. "I think you misunderstand me. You are not signing anything, not in a physical sense. All you have to do," she says, and as she does so, she steps forward and puts a hand on your cheek, "is be still."

You're about to ask what she means, but she leans down and envelops you in her embrace, taking you in her arms. Your eyes widen at gesture, and widen more as her lips brush your neck.

"Lady Dimitrescu?" You squeak.

"Adorable," she murmurs. "I'm going to enjoy this."

Her lips brush your neck and then open, and suddenly two fangs pierce into your neck. You gasp loud, and the daughters on the stairs erupt into laughter.

Lady Dimitrescu holds you tight, and swallows a single mouthful before pulling away. She looks at you with disgust and pushes you away from her.

"I was promised a virgin," she snarls. "That man promised me a maiden in exchange for clearing his debts. You," she spits, "are no virgin."

You shrink in on yourself. It was true, you had had a tryst years ago, but only once, and it hadn't been serious-

"Oh, do we get her, mother?" One of the daughters asked. "Do we get to play with her?"

"Do what you like with her." Lady Dimitrescu waves a hand dismissively and turns. "She's of no use to me."

The daughters explode into a swarm of insects and reassemble themselves right in front of you, between you and the Lady. Their smiles and eyes hold crazed bloodlust, and they chatter excitedly amongst themselves. One steps forward and wraps a hand around your arm, pulling you towards her. She dips her head and laps up the blood on your neck from where her mother had bitten you.

"You're going to be an excellent plaything," she says gleefully. She draws out a curved blade and grabs your hair. "While you live, anyway."

Your eyes widen with fear and your heart slams against the confines of your chest, trying to escape before it's cut out of you-

"Wait."

That single word from Lady Dimitrescu stops the daughters in their tracks. The one with the blade turns and looks at her mother.

"Mother?"

"I've changed my mind." She turns and smiles like none of the events that had just transpired ever happened. "My sweet daughters, let her go. I have an idea for her."

The daughters release you and step back. Lady Dimitrescu saunters towards you and places a hand under your trembling chin, forcing your head up to look her in the eyes. Now that you're close to her and she's looking directly at you, you can see that her eyes are a startling gold.

"My dear," she starts. "I've just saved your life. You see, my daughters can be rather…excitable, when presented with new playthings. The poor girls--they often end up breaking their toys." She laughs like she had just told an innocent joke, shaking her head with a smile. "So, my dear. I thought that instead of leaving you to be broken and discarded on the playroom floor, I'd…take you to be my toy, as it were." Her smile doesn't fade, but the humor goes out of her eyes. "I expect you to repay this action with more obedience and loyalty than I would expect from any of my staff, do you understand?"

Your eyes are wide, but you nod despite yourself. Faced with the mother who bit you or the daughters who were going to carve you like a holiday ham, you would choose the mother any day.

"Good girl," she coos. She turns and starts up the staircase, snapping her fingers. "Follow, my darling. We've got to train you."

You look back at the daughters for a brief moment but follow her obediently up the stairs.


	2. Chapter 2

Lady Dimitrescu leads you up the stairs, her hips swaying as she ascends each step.

  
You follow diligently, holding your hand to your neck. It's hardly bleeding anymore, and it doesn't hurt…which you find weird--there must be something about vampires and their bites in particular.

  
She walks up the stairs, down the halls, going around corners and through elaborate rooms with the ease of someone who owned the place and knew it. Not once in all of this does she look back--she expects you to follow her obediently, and follow her you do. And you don't have any evidence for it, but you know that if you didn’t follow her, the consequences would be worse.

Your eyes raise from the floor, met with the view of her ass. It's only a bit below eye level and it's easy to stare at as you walk behind her.

  
You swallow thickly as your eyes stay fixed on it, watching how it moves with each step she takes. She walks with a generous sway of her hips, and you wonder if she's putting on more of a show for you, or if she's always like this.

  
Eventually, she stops, and you're so preoccupied thinking your thoughts about her and her body that you almost run into her, but you manage to stop yourself just in time.  
She looks back at you with a slow, smooth smile.

  
"Well, my dear," she says, "these are my chambers. Come inside."

  
Lady Dimitrescu opens the door and allows you to enter first before following behind you.

  
You look around, taking in the room; the alabaster walls, the gold filigree that seems to adorn every edge in this house, the plush furniture, and the rich rug underneath.

  
The Lady follows behind you, shutting the door behind her with a finality that makes your heart start up again.

  
"Now, dear…" she purrs, coming up behind you and setting her hands on your shoulders. You tense under her touch, and she presses her fingers harder against your flesh. "Oh, there's no need to worry, my dear. I'm not like my daughters--I take great joy in playing with my food, but I don't end the game before I'm satisfied."

  
She runs her fingers up your neck, collecting the last of the blood still pooling around the wound. You aren't looking at her, but you know she lifts her fingers to her lips.

  
You stiffen, and despite yourself, you feel a stab of heat in your gut. You swallow again, mind cycling through possibilities--as it had when you first arrived, but this time those possibilities were of a different nature.  
  
"You mentioned training, Ma'am," you respond, voice soft.

  
You can't help the slight tremble it holds, and you close your eyes when you hear her laugh. Low, smooth, resembling that velvet quality her voice held when you first heard her speak.

  
"Yes, I suppose I did," she muses.

  
She takes her hands off your shoulders and circles around to your front. She puts her hands on her thighs and bends so that she's more even with your eye level, but in doing so she puts her breasts on display.

  
She has a condescending tone to her voice when she speaks. "Now, my dear, please listen. I'm only going to say this once, so I want you to pay attention. I took you away from my daughters, but I can give you back just as easily. Do you want that?"

  
You shake your head. "No, Ma'am."

  
"I didn't think so," she tuts. A hand brushes your hair again in a way you're realizing is almost motherly. "In return, I'm only going to ask for a few things. Obedience, loyalty…" Her hand trails down from your hair, down your neck, past the bite mark, to where your heart lies in your chest. She presses her fingers against the skin, there, and you swear her fingernails feel longer and sharper for a second. "…and your service. Do you think you can do that?"

  
You swallow, and you ask a question you already know the answer to. "How do you want my service, Ma'am?"

  
She laughs again, low and dark. "Oh, my dear, I can't tell if you're playing dumb to get me riled up, or if you're really this stupid." She looks at you with her signature wide smile as if the insult had never passed her lips. "You're going to be my plaything. Do you understand what I'm implying here, darling?"

  
Your eyes dart to the floor, and your cheeks color in a blush.

  
"Oh, so you do." That hand moves from your chest to your chin, forcing you to look up into those golden eyes. "But just so we're clear about what I expect from you, I'll spell it out. You," she purred, "are going to be my pet. A little plaything for me to fuck whenever I like. Do you understand?"

  
You nod shakily, and that heat in your gut is growing.

  
"Good, dear. As for your service--I expect you to do what I say when I say it. If I want wine, you get it for me. If I want to feed, you sit in my lap. And if I want you to pleasure me, you pleasure me. Is that clear?"

  
You nod hurriedly. You're starting to feel warm with all the things she's saying.

  
"Now that you understand me, my dear, I have a question for you."

  
She practically picks you up and turns you around so that your back is pressed against her front, your head nestled back against her breasts. Your eyes land on a mirror across the room, and you can see yourself being held by her. Her gold eyes make contact with yours through the reflection, and those painted lips turn up in a smirk.

  
You see your arms held against your sides by one of hers, your hair being disturbed by every slight breath she exhales. Her hand snakes down, and you watch the dress you wear shifting under her touch as she explores the planes of your stomach, heading down…

  
Her hand reaches your sex, separated by the thin cloth of the nightgown and the fabric of your panties. You gasp as she touches you, her fingers pressing against your flesh in a way that has your face heating up. You see your nightgown lift in the reflection, and your panties are tugged down, falling around your ankles. You watch, fascinated, as she parts your lips, her fingers finding your clit easily enough. You whimper slightly as she teases it.

  
"Who had this first?"

  
It's less of a question and more a demand. You swallow thickly.

  
"No one-"

  
"Liar," she hisses. "I tasted your blood--you've been fucked before. Someone had you. Who was it?"

  
"No one _important,"_ you finish. "It was a tryst, it meant nothing-"

  
"I want a name," she growls.

  
"It was a boy in the village," you confess. "It was just curiosity, it wasn't good-"

  
"A boy in the village?" Lady Dimitrescu repeats, musing over that answer. "And are you too stupid to remember his name?"

  
You swallow.

  
"The name," she demands again.

  
"Reginald Barnaby," you cry. "The prior's son, please-"

  
"A prior's son?" She laughs in your ear, all traces of earlier menace gone. "Oh, you naughty girl. Corrupting someone like that…" She tsks in your ear and you shiver at the wisp of her breath over your skin. "Well. That'll have to wait until later, dear. Right now, we're going to start with your training."

  
She lets you go, and you almost fall without her support. You're shaking something terrible, but she doesn't seem to notice--or if she does, she doesn't care.

  
She crosses to a little vanity. It has a mirror and a chair--both trimmed with the gold leaf she seems so fond of. She sits in front of it and looks at herself in the mirror.

  
She casts a glance at you and snaps her fingers, pointing to the ground next to her. "Come."

  
You stoop to pick up your panties, but her voice stops you.

  
"Leave them."

  
You dutifully leave them where they are and walk over, standing next to her.

  
"You misunderstand," she said, smiling gently. "My dear, I want you to sit. You're a pet, remember?"

  
You hesitate a moment. Her gold eyes flash with something dangerous and you decide that sitting on the ground sounds good, actually. You take a seat, and lean your back against the piece of furniture.

  
Her left hand comes down and pets your hair, and when you look up you can see her right one is busy--you can see her writing, but you're not sure what.

  
You sit there for what feels like ages, listening to the scratch of her pen on the paper and enjoying the feeling of her petting your hair. The windows are shut, so there's no real way to tell how much time is passing.

  
You get bored, and try counting how many tiles are on the floor, but the rug obscures too many of them and you give up. Then you start trying to fit the designs on the rug together mentally to see if they'd match up. They don't.

  
You look up at Lady Dimitrescu, and she's still absorbed in her writing. You look back at the floor and shift under her hand.

  
"Stop fidgeting," she growls, and her hand tightens briefly in your hair before she lets go.

  
You try to stay still, but that action just made more heat rush to your gut, and you press your thighs together despite yourself.

  
"Oh, my dear," she says with exasperation, putting down her pen to turn her attention to you. "Can you not contain yourself?"

  
"No, Ma'am-"

  
"That reminds me, my dear," she interrupts. "Ma'am, Miss, My Lady, Lady Dimitrescu…those are fine for the servants, darling, however…you're my pet. You should call me something different. Something more…familiar."

  
"What do you have in mind?" You ask softly.

  
"I think Mommy would do just fine," she says with that familiar smile.

  
Your cheeks burn, but you nod. "Yes, Mommy."

  
"Oh, there's a good girl. Here, I'll tell you what--Mommy has to finish a few things before dinner, and you're being very distracting. How about you explore a little bit? Familiarize yourself with your new home?" That smile never fades. "I want you to feel comfortable with your surroundings, my dear."

  
You nod again. "Alright."

  
"Oh, but before you go," she starts, and she pulls out one of the drawers of the vanity and fishes around in it before producing a collar made from black leather. "Here. Everyone will know whom it is that you belong to, and so no one will bother you."

  
Your cheeks burn hotter as she clasps the collar around your neck. She adjusts it, situating it, her hands lingering on your neck…

  
"Beautiful," she murmurs. "You were quite the find, my dear. Even if you weren't what I was expecting--you'll do."

  
"Thank you, Mommy," you reply.

  
"Now, run along." She smiles at you one last time and goes back to her work.

  
You make for the door, but her voice stops you.

  
"Oh, and dear? Don't go in the cellar."

  
You leave the room quickly, closing the door behind you with a small sense of relief. She's incredibly attractive, you think to yourself, but she still terrifies you.  
You spend the next few hours wandering the castle, trying to memorize which rooms lead where and what is on each level. You don't run into anyone, which unsettles you more than the pristine nature of this place that's leading you to believe that it's hardly actually lived in.

  
You don’t see an obvious entrance to the cellar she mentioned, and you're relieved--curiosity might have gotten the better of you if you had noticed a door like that.

  
You wander, you read the spines of books and the labels on bottles of wine, you look at paintings, and as the day progresses into evening, you find yourself in the dining hall. You see a meal being laid out--nothing elaborate, and it seems to be for the servants. You wave to one of the girls setting the meal out, but with one look at your collar she hurries on her way.

  
You frown, but say nothing.

  
After a few moments of watching, the familiar loud footsteps echo through the halls, and you know it's Lady Dimitrescu. Sure enough, she soon arrives in the dining hall, once again ducking to get through the doors.

  
"There you are, pet," she greets. "Are you hungry?"

  
You nod.

  
"Then, my dear," she laughs, "you shouldn't eat in here with the servants. Come."

  
She leads you into another, more elaborate dining hall nestled deeper in the castle. All that's set out is wine, except for a single plate of food next to the head of the table.

  
"You may sit at the table," she says, "since it's your first day."

  
You don't like the implications of that, but you take your seat next to her at the head of the table. There's three other wine glasses out besides hers, and soon the daughters you had met before come in and take their seats.

  
The four of them converse over wine, while you eat the food set out for you. It's good, and it makes you realize just how hungry you are.

  
When you finish with your plate, you look up to see Lady Dimitrescu looking down at you fondly.

  
"Now, my dear," she says, setting her wine glass down on the table. "You didn't do so well during your training earlier today."

  
The daughters laugh, and your cheeks burn.

  
"It seems like you need a more personal touch," the Lady continues. "And luckily for you, I have just the thing."  
  
She stands from the table, and motions for you to follow. You do. Without question or objection, you do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i decided that i was going to do a little preview of the next chapter at the end of the one preceding it, so here that is!!
> 
> In one movement, she pushes you off her lap, sending you falling to the floor. You look up at her with confusion before she hitches up her skirts, revealing plush thighs clothed in white stockings, held up by a garter. Her panties--also white--showed a generous wet spot that had your mouth going dry.
> 
> "Show me how much you want it," she husks.


	3. Chapter 3

She leads you back through the halls until you are once more at her chambers. She lets you in first, and closes the door behind you--locking it, this time.

You stand in the middle of the room, hands clasped in front of you, waiting patiently. You're nervous, but she's very attractive and she was saying those things earlier…

"You look like you're thinking," she purrs in your ear, jerking you out of your thoughts. "What's on your mind?"

Your eyes widen and you shake your head. "Nothing, Mommy."

"I think you're not telling me the truth."

You swallow. "I was thinking about you."

"What about me, dear?"

Your mouth is dry as her hands wander down your sides. You don't say anything.

"Were you thinking about your service to me?"

You nod slightly.

"I did say I had something that could help," she reminds you.

She parts from you and you immediately miss the contact.

"Now, my dear," she starts, and she retrieves a bottle from where it was resting on the vanity--it wasn't here last time, you notice. You would've remembered it if it had been, what with the elaborate silver leaf on the bottle. "Have you ever had alcohol before?"

You shake your head.

"Well," she says, uncorking the bottle and pouring two glasses, "I find it helps girls like you."

"Girls like me?"

"Pets, darling," she drawls, sounding bored. She stops pouring and brings the two glasses over. "I find it helps my pets in a variety of ways. And you want to be the best you can be for me, don't you?"

You nod warily.

She hands you one of the glasses with a smooth smile. "Drink, my dear."

You raise the glass to your lips and take a tentative sip. It tastes metallic, like-

"Is this-?"

"The wine my family is known for," she says proudly. "Sanguis Virginis. Maiden's blood."

"Is it actually blood?"

"Yes."

Your face shows your surprise and she tuts.

"Really, darling--you're my pet. Your loyalty is mine. I don't see why I should bother lying to you." She takes a sip of the wine herself, and smiles with bloodstained teeth. "You would've ended up in one of these bottles, had you been a virgin--but I'm finding myself glad that you weren't. It'll prove more exciting this way."

You look at the wine with mistrust. "I don't want to drink someone's blood," you say.

"Just a sip," she offers. "A bigger sip, and you can be done."

You look at her for a moment, but decide to listen. You take a bigger sip of the wine, feeling it warm your throat as you swallow. It settles thick in your stomach, heating you from the inside. The aftertaste is somewhat floral, and you're horrified when you catch yourself liking it.

She takes the glass from you and leads you over to a little table with two chairs. She sets the glasses down on the table, and sits in one of the chairs.

The wine continues to heat you, and you wonder if all alcohol is this potent.

Lady Dimitrescu pats her lap. "Come here, pet. Sit on Mommy's lap."

You cross to her obediently, settling in her lap.

She holds you to her--gently, this time, so unlike earlier today. She nuzzles into your hair, and you find that now that you're not afraid, you can smell her perfume. It smells expensive, fancy, and you find yourself thinking that it suits her.

You're starting to grow warmer sitting in her lap, and you shift a little.

"How did you enjoy your first day?" She murmurs in your ear.

"It was fine, Mommy," you say.

She hums her approval, and her hands start roaming your body--up your back to your shoulders, down your arms, across your middle. They stay clear of your breasts, for now, and some part of you aches for her to touch you there.

You're growing warmer, and your thoughts turn carnal. The thought of you on your knees in front of her, the thought of her hands on you, that mouth-

You shift again.

"Oh, pet, you're flushed," she coos sympathetically. "Are you too hot? Do you want to get out of that nightgown?"

You find yourself nodding.

With a quick motion, Lady Dimitrescu wastes no time tearing the dress from your body, abandoning taking it off in favor of ruining the fabric entirely.

You almost want to protest, but then her arm is back around your middle and the contact from where she's pressing into you seems to burn.

"There, is that better?"

You shake your head. "I'm still hot."

"Oh, then you might want to have some more wine, darling." She lifts one of the glasses and hands it to you. "It'll help you feel better."

"There's something in it," you say, looking at it with mistrust.

"Yes. It's an aphrodisiac, and a very potent one," she murmurs in your ear. "The more you drink, the stronger it is. You seemed nervous, my dear. It's just a little thing to get you started, that's all. Something to help you relax."

You stare at the cup for a few more seconds.

"If you stop here," she continues, "the effects will fade in a few minutes. If you keep going, it'll get stronger." She pauses for a moment. "I was planning on drinking some myself. It just makes for a better time, in my opinion."

"What does it do?"

"Makes you warm," she explains. "Makes you more sensitive. It makes you crave carnal pleasures--it makes your mind relax and ignore the things holding you back from really letting go."

You look at the cup for a few seconds longer. You debate with yourself, war back and forth.

And then you realize that putting the circumstances aside, an attractive vampire was offering you something to help you have a good night with her.

You take the wine glass and drain it, earlier inhibitions gone. The wine burns as it slides down your throat, settling with the rest in your stomach.

You grow even hotter in a matter of moments. You shift in her lap again and the sensation of your thighs rubbing together is almost too much to bear.

You look up at Lady Dimitrescu to see her lifting her own glass to her mouth, drinking deep.

You swallow thickly as you watch her down the wine.

She smiles down at you, those lips parted invitingly and you can smell the wine on her breath-

You pounce, capturing her lips in yours. They're full and soft and you find yourself sucking on them, trying to get every drop of wine.

She pulls you flush against her and deepens the kiss, pressing her tongue into your mouth. You moan, and you can taste even more of the wine on her tongue.

You kiss her and kiss her until you're burning up and rutting against her thighs.

She parts from the kiss and laughs. "Oh, my poor little pet," she says. "You're all worked up. Do you want some relief?"

You nod frantically.

In one movement, she pushes you off her lap, sending you falling to the floor. You look up at her with confusion before she hitches up her skirts, revealing plush thighs clothed in white stockings, held up by a garter. Her panties--also white--showed a generous wet spot that had your mouth going dry.

"Show me how much you want it," she husks.

You move from your sprawled position, crawling over to settle in front of her on your knees. Your hands are shaking as they settle on her calves, trailing up her legs to those plush thighs…

You can smell her, you realize. This close, with how little layers remained between you and her, you can smell her. And she smells intoxicating.

Perhaps it's the wine, perhaps it's the smell, but your head is light and feels like its spinning.

Your hands clumsily remove her garter, and her panties, and her stockings, until they're all piled on the floor next to you.

Her sex is covered in neatly trimmed dark hair. That intimidates you for a moment, but the smell makes your mouth water and all you want to do is put your mouth on her…

"I've never pleasured a woman before," you admit.

"Oh, that's alright my dear," she purrs. One hand comes down and entwines itself in your hair, fingernails scratching slightly at your scalp. "Just do your best and Mommy can help if you get stuck."

A flood of heat goes through you at the thought of her guiding you in your endeavors, and pressing your thighs together only makes you feel hotter.

You put your hands on her knees and gently spread them more. You take a breath before diving in, your mouth making contact with her slick folds. You let out a noise of satisfaction at the taste--it isn't reminiscent of candy or fruit or anything of the sort, but it is sweet…and it's her.

You close your eyes and press your face against her, feeling your chin and lips get hopelessly soaked as you endeavor to please her with your tongue.

She groans as you finally find her clit, and her hand in your hair tightens.

"Oh, there you go," she sighs. "Just like that, dearest."

You press your thighs together at the praise and whimper into her. You squirm, but start to lick faster, lapping at her clit with quick, short licks. You adjust the angle of your head, but don't stop pleasuring her.

"Fuck," she sighs, and that single swear makes you realize just how affected by this she is. "Not just short and fast, darling," she pants, "try sucking every so often, and make sure to use your jaw and neck to apply force instead of your tongue--you last longer that way."

You nod against her and do as she says--finding that she's right in how she's advising you. Not that you ever really doubted her in the first place. You stop licking briefly to suck at her clit, and a genuine moan falls from her lips.

So you begin to alternate. Licks that are hard and fast with ones that are slower, softer--suckling every so often at her clit. Gradually, you draw out more noises of satisfaction from her--more little moans and breathy sighs, along with muttered praise and soft swears.

Her hand tightens in your hair until the pull is painful and keeping you flush against her. You don't mind, the sensation is only making the fire in your gut burn brighter.

You don't stop pleasuring her for a moment--you keep licking, stopping occasionally to suck at her clit. Every time you do, you delight in the way small noises drop from her lips.

"Just like that, pet," she groans. "You're being such a--fuck--such a good girl for Mommy."

And so you pleasure her. You pleasure her and you follow her instructions and you listen to each noise she makes. You greedily lap up her essence, savoring the flavor. Your head spins and spins and you can't find it in yourself to care as long as she's under your tongue and moaning like she is.

Your jaw and neck begin to tire after a time, though, and soon after your tongue does as well. Your eyebrows furrow--you don't want to stop, you don't want to slow, you want to keep pleasuring her until she comes and you want to do it right so Mommy will be proud of you-

Her hand pulls gently at your hair, getting your attention.

"It's alright if you're getting tired," she reassures you. "It's your first time, my dear--I'm not expecting perfection. That's part of training a new pet…you have to show them how to do something the way you want it again and again until they learn to do it by themself."

You nod and pull away, your tongue darting out to clean off some of her juices from your lips.

"Come sit in my lap again, dear," she says, beckoning you to come close.

You do, settling down in her lap. Despite yourself, you rest your head against her generous chest.

She lets you stay there for a few moments as she gently pets your hair. Soon enough, though, she's tilting your face up to look her in the eye.

"You did very well," she coos.

She leans forward and licks your chin, lapping up the rest of her own juices that still remained on your face.

Your eyes widen and your cheeks darken despite yourself.

"Oh, my dear," she laughs, "did that get you riled up? Is someone anxious for her reward? Do you want Mommy to help make you feel good?"

"Yes, Mommy," you reply, hardly even thinking about the title anymore.

"Good girl."

She stands up, easily lifting you as she does so. Your arms cling around her neck for support as she carries you to the bed, setting you down on the plush mattress. Your back presses into the mattress as she looks down at you.

It's plush but seems unused, like Lady Dimitrescu hardly sleeps in her own bed…or at perhaps hardly sleeps.

Your mind stops thinking of this as she climbs on top of you, straddling your waist. Initially, you're afraid she is going to finally break you in half, but she's gentle in the way she positions herself, conscientious of her size.

She must see this thought process show on your face, because she laughs. "Really, dear. I saved you from my daughters ripping you apart--why on earth would I want to break such a pretty young thing on the first night? Break you in half, heavens no, but break you in…"

She trails off as she dips her head, her mouth making contact with your neck. She brushes your skin with her fangs, and the action sends shivers through your body.

She doesn't bite, though, merely kisses and sucks and marks you above and below the collar.

"Are you going to feed?" You ask, and you can't keep the nervousness out of your voice.

"Soon," she replies, nuzzling against you like she hadn't just frightened you with that single word. "I mentioned earlier that I liked playing with my food, did I not?"

You nod and squeeze your eyes shut as she makes her way down your body. She kisses and palms your breasts, playing with them, enjoying their size and shape. She takes a nipple in her mouth and sucks gently, and your back arches.

You whimper and wriggle your hips, trying to urge her downwards to where you needed her most-

"Patience, pet," she warns. "You don't want me to stop, do you?"

You shake your head. "No, Mommy. Please don't stop."

She smiles and goes back to playing with your breasts, obviously taking her time. She nuzzles and kisses and caresses them, making sure to alternate between them so that one isn't feeling left out as the other gets attention.

Finally, after what seems like ages, she moves down your body, sliding off the bed to settle on her knees. She's still towering, even kneeling, and you can see her easily from where you're laying back.

She dips her head, nuzzling your thighs.

"Sweet thing," she praises. "Such a beautiful body, so soft and eager…"

Her hand comes up, tracing her fingers along your inner thighs as they travel upwards. Her fingers are thick, and you stare at them as she brings them close to your entrance. Almost involuntarily, you wonder if they'll fit.

She circles your entrance once, twice, looking up at you with a grin.

"Beg, pet."

"Please," you whine. "Please, Mommy, I want them-"

"Want what, dearest?"

"I want your fingers. Please-"

"Oh, alright. I suppose I can be nice and let you have them. Since you've been so good for me…"

She slides two fingers into you with ease. You moan, and that moan turns into a louder yelp as she sinks her fangs into your thigh.

She shivers as she begins feeding from you, drinking long and deep from the artery in your thigh. From the look on her face, she's still enjoying your blood, despite it not being the virgin blood she seems to prize.

Her hand moves, thrusting her fingers in and out of you. The pleasure you feel as she brushes against that spot inside you drowns out the pain of her drinking from your thighs.

She finishes feeding after a time, pulling away from the wound she leaves. She looks you in the eye and makes a show of cleaning your blood from her chin.

She hums in approval. "I must say that even though you're not a virgin, you still taste delicious."

You nod shakily. "Thank you, Mommy."

She smiles sweetly down at you and puts the entire strength of her arm into pounding her fingers into you.

The moan that drops from your lips is embarrassingly loud, but you can't find it in yourself to care.

She fucks you deep into the mattress, every thrust of her fingers pressing you that much deeper into the plush surface. She crooks her fingers up, suddenly, and you choke on your breath. The sensation feels wonderful. She does it again and though you're ready, it still takes your breath away.

You get a little drunk off the pleasure she's providing, and you find your hips meeting every thrust of her fingers with wild enthusiasm. You grin somewhat deliriously as you realize this, and let yourself get lost in the sensation.

She fucks you and fucks you, and somewhere in your lust-drunk mind you admire her stamina.

After ages of taking her fingers, she pulls them out of you, looking at the slickness that coated them.

"Oh, it seems I've gotten my hand messy," she tuts. "Pet, dearest. Come clean me off."

You raise yourself from the mattress with shaky arms. Sitting up takes all your effort after how thoroughly she just fucked you. But you open your mouth dutifully, and she places her fingers inside against your tongue.

You rasp your tongue over them, you hollow your cheeks as you suck them, and you make sure to take a good, long time in cleaning them off.

When she's satisfied, she draws her fingers out and wipes the spit on your cheek.

"Rest, dear," she says, patting your cheek with the same hand. "I'll be back soon."

She leaves the room, and you flop face down into the bed, breathing heavily as you recover.

You've almost fallen asleep before the door opens again. Her footsteps approach the bed and stop.

You throw a look over your shoulder to see her looking at you fondly.

"Beautiful," she breathes. "Absolutely stunning, my dear."

She climbs onto the bed, settling herself over you. She rolls her hips into you and you realize-

"Another?" You ask, a bit confused.

"Oh, my dear," she chuckles. "I'm sure you'll come to find I'm quite ravenous in my appetites. And when I have such a soft, supple, youthful thing like you under me, well…" She licks a trail up your neck, making you choke on a groan. "I get a little insatiable."

Her body presses you deep down into the mattress. Her hand finds its way down to between your thighs, easily able to access your pussy, even from this angle.

She thrusts two inside roughly, and you let out a small moan.

"I want that idiot in the village who sold you to hear you," she growls in your ear. "I want you to scream my name so loud that he knows what he gave up. Do you understand, pet?"

You nod. After several more rounds through the course of the night, your voice grows hoarse. A few rounds after that, you get so tired that you can hardly move after she's done fucking you.

Sometime in the early morning, she pats your ass fondly after she cleans her fingers off on the sheets. She leaves you there on her bed to fall asleep surrounded by the mess the two of you made over the course of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you've enjoyed this newest chapter!! just a note going forward: i'm going to answer comments whenever i post a new chapter, so if you see me respond to you that's an indication of an update!!
> 
> and without further delay, here's a sneak peak for the next one
> 
> "Oh dear," she hums. "I'm having second thoughts. I'm wondering if I want you on your back…or if I want to fuck you from behind."  
> You look up at her with wide eyes and wait for her to make a decision.  
> "No input?" She smirks. "Or are you too dumb to speak when presented with Mommy's cock?"


	4. Chapter 4

You awake the next morning so unlike how you had awoken the previous. Instead of a rough hand shaking you awake, you come to consciousness feeling soft fingers stroking your hair and a velvet voice calling you.

"Pet," the pleasant voice calls. "Pet, dear. It's time to wake up."

You open your eyes, looking blearily up to the source of the voice.

You see Lady Dimitrescu looking down at you with a motherly smile, and it all comes flooding back. Being sold to her, becoming her pet, the training, the wine, the way her fingers had a seemingly endless amount of stamina…

You can't help an adoring smile up at her.

Her smile widens, and she presses a kiss to your lips. She tastes like the wine from last night, and the taste draws you in, making you kiss her deeper.

She pulls away with a chuckle. "My dear," she says teasingly, "the day has only begun. There's time for that later. Up."

You sit up, looking around the room. You spy your nightgown from last night on the floor, ripped in half.

Right.

"I don't have any clothes, La-" You catch yourself. "Mommy."

You realize that your voice hasn't fully recovered from last night, and that it's still scratchy and sore.

"Oh, don't worry about that, dear. You won't be needing anything like that today."

She stands up and goes to her desk, opening a drawer and rummaging around in it. You want to ask her what she means by that, but the view of her ass as she bends over to look in the drawer draws your gaze and you lose your train of thought.

"It's a big day today," she says over her shoulder. "I want you to be on your best behavior, alright?"

"What's happening?"

"Oh, don't worry your pretty little head about it yet, my dear." She's grabbing a few things from the drawer, but you can't see what's in her hands. "I woke you up early because I wanted to…give you a practice run, as it were. Make sure you wouldn't be too overwhelmed by the main event."

She stands and turns, and your eyes widen.

She has a leather harness in her hands, along with an object that's distinctly cock-shaped. You realize what she's planning immediately and you blush deep crimson.

"Oh, are you excited?" Lady Dimitrescu laughs. "Such a good pet. Now, my dear. Mommy's going to get ready. Lay back and spread your legs like a good girl, alright?"

You nod and lay back, spreading your legs just like you were told. You lift your head to watch her as you wait.

She steps into the harness and adjusts it, pulling straps to tighten it around her waist. The cock itself slips into a ring that uses the tapered base of the toy to hold it in place. Next comes a bottle you hadn't noticed before. She opens it and pours a generous amount on the cock, stroking it to spread the liquid up and down the shaft.

She doesn't take off her dress for this, rather just hitches it up, the fabric parting over the cock. She doesn't seem to care that her dress is brushing against the toy and getting wet from the liquid she's applied.

She saunters over to the bed, the cock shifting and bobbing between her legs with each step. She comes to a stop in front of you, and makes a show of tapping her chin with a finger.

"Oh dear," she hums. "I'm having second thoughts. I'm wondering if I want you on your back…or if I want to fuck you from behind."

You look up at her with wide eyes and wait for her to make a decision.

"No input?" She smirks. "Or are you too dumb to speak when presented with Mommy's cock?"

"I'm alright with either, Mommy," you say quickly.

"I'm sure you are."

She grabs your ankles and yanks you towards her. With a few quick motions and inhuman strength, she flips you over so that your stomach is pressed against the mattress and both feet are on the floor, spread so they're on either side of hers.

She reaches out a hand, and her fingernails feel sharper than they were last night as they rake down your back. You moan at the stinging pain, barely hearing the laugh you get in response.

She adjusts herself, and the next thing you know she's pressing the head of the cock against your entrance. It's big, you're realizing--a bit bigger than the two fingers you took last night.

"Do you want it?" She practically croons the question. "Do you want Mommy to fill you up with her cock?"

You nod shakily. She always seems to know the exact words to say to get you wet, you're realizing. You can feel heat gathering in your gut as she teases you with the head of her cock, circling around and around your entrance.

"Oh, you do? My little pet wants to get fucked? Fucked like a dirty little whore…" She hums appreciatively. "That's good, pet. Very good. Now, here's how this is going to work."

You nod, listening intently.

"Mommy's going to fuck you, dear. Mommy's going to fill you up nice and full with her cock. And while Mommy's fucking you, you're going to be perfectly silent and still. No noise, no movement, alright? This is practice for later today."

You nod.

"Good girl."

She pushes into you with one motion, pressing her cock into you to the hilt. You buck against her involuntarily.

She tsks. "You're not very good at this, pet."

"Sorry, Mommy-"

"I said no noise." She lets out a disappointed huff. "Is this too difficult for you, pet? Are you too stupid to follow Mommy's instructions? Or are you going to be a good girl for me and stay silent and still?"

"I'll be good," you whimper.

"Then show me."

You bow your head, trying your best to be still and quiet.

She makes the task all the more difficult by slowly sliding the cock out of you until only the head is left inside. She eases it in and out a few more times, each achingly slow. You want to whimper, to whine, to plead with her or wriggle your hips or do something--but you stay silent and still, like she wants you to.

She seems to tire of this, because soon she grabs your hips and starts pounding into you. Her hips slam against yours with every thrust, and you squeeze your eyes closed and blush at the obscene noise it makes.

But you stay silent and still--except for the bounce of your breasts from each impact.

She fucks you with inhuman strength, hilting her cock in you with each thrust. The impact against your walls is a dull ache that you're sure is going to feel worse tomorrow, but at the moment the pleasure is soothing the pain.

Through all of this, you don't move. You stay perfectly still--legs spread, arms bracing yourself against the bed, and your head to the side. You can barely see her from the angle you're at as she fucks you; still regal and composed, face mostly neutral as she looks down at you. The sole thing that shows you that she's more affected than she's letting on is the look in her eyes--a bit wider than normal and filled with lust.

"There's a good girl," she croons, not stopping or slowing in her movements whatsoever. "Finally learning to shut up. Finally learning your place…under me and taking my cock."

You bite back a whimper, squeezing your eyes shut harder.

You barely feel one of her hands leave your hips before she grabs your hair and yanks your head up so that you're looking straight ahead. Your eyes fly open, and you see why.

There's a mirror. It's one of a few in the room…you dimly realize she has a reflection, and that's weird for vampires, but that thought leaves your mind as you take in what's being shown in the reflection.

You, on your stomach, ass slightly higher than the rest of you, getting fucked for all you're worth. Your eyes are lidded with lust and your mouth is parted as you pant for breath.

Lady Dimitrescu is holding onto your hair, forcing you to look in the mirror. She grins from behind you and lifts her chin, turning her head from one side to the other as if admiring herself in the mirror. She slows her pace ever so slightly as she does this.

"Enjoying the view, pet?"

You nod against the hand in your hair, figuring answering her would be better than not.

You realize suddenly that with her being as tall as she is, she must be on her knees as she fucks you. You, with your legs standing and your front bent over the bed. The realization shakes you and it makes you really realize just how small you are by comparison.

She lets go of your hair, her hands coming back to your hips.

"Don't let me catch you closing your eyes, pet. I want you to watch."

Obediently, you keep your eyes on the mirror. You watch as she pulls out slowly, grinning from ear to ear. She shoves back into you with a quick, savage thrust.

You jolt despite yourself--but she doesn't seem to care as she picks up her pace. She fucks you with hard, steady thrusts--a bit slower than her pace before, but just as intense.

Her breasts bounce with every thrust, and you become mesmerized watching them, watching how they move, how perfect they look…

You blink as you realize you haven't seen her breasts exposed. You briefly wonder why that is.

Your eyes lift from her breasts to her face, and you see that same look in her eyes. Intense, lustful, and watching you as she fucks you. Her mouth is slightly parted, now, but she isn't breathing any heavier. The stamina she posses is incredible if she can keep this pace for this long, you find yourself thinking.

She pulls out abruptly, and you can't help a genuine whimper at the loss.

"Oh, you did so well," she coos. "I just don't want to wear you out before the main event."

You turn over and look up at her questioningly.

She laughs at your look, and caresses your face. "My dear," she says gently, as if chastising a child, "you're going to have to be patient. You'll know when I want you to."

She pulls away and takes the strap-on off. She crosses to a door off to the side, and you realize it leads to a bathroom as she steps inside to clean the toy. She returns in a matter of moments and gathers up the harness, the cock, and the bottle of slick in her arms, and beckons you to come towards her.

"Come," she says. "Let's get you breakfast."

"I don't have any clothes," you point out.

She looks at you like you had just said the sky is blue instead: an obvious fact, and one that she doesn't particularly care about.

"I already told you that you wouldn't have to worry about that today," she drawls, bored. "Come, pet. You should eat. You'll need the strength."

She turns with a wide smile and a slight laugh, like she had just told a clever joke. She sweeps out of the room, supplies in hand. This time, you hesitate just a moment before following after her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you've enjoyed this chapter!! we're getting into some juicy territory here boiz
> 
> preview!!  
> As you eat, you think about what Lady Dimitrescu had said earlier. Something about some event later today.  
> You chew and swallow your current mouthful. "What's later today?"  
> "Nothing you have to worry about, my sweet. Mommy's taking care of it."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! sorry this one's late--wednesdays are my busiest days. i just wanted to post a few things for this chapter before you read in case anyone's sensitive to this stuff, but in the chapter following there's going to be exhibitionism and power plays and a bit of humiliation if you read between the lines. 
> 
> a more indepth look at what i mean which is SPOILERS slightly:  
> the exhibitionism is consensual on the parts of the people doing the act, but not really on the parts of the watchers, which is why i'm counting it as a power play. and that's why i'm putting this warning here
> 
> i hope you enjoy!!

Lady Dimitrescu leads you down to the dining hall you had eaten in last night. She breezes in through the doors--having to duck through them seemingly doesn't affect her. She sets her supplies down on the table and looks back at you with an irritated gaze as you come to stop in front of her. It takes you a moment to realize it's not directed at you.

"I told the staff to have your breakfast ready by now," she says, and her voice is terse and clipped. "Stay here while I find out what in the blazes is taking so long."

She exits just as quickly and as confidently as she had entered.

You wait in the dining hall, your hands covering your naked body as best they can. A blush has been firmly on your face since leaving her chambers.

You look around the room, taking in the elaborately carved table, the décor, the finery…

The door opens again, and you turn expecting Lady Dimitrescu. Instead, you see one of her daughters. She stares at you for a moment before laughing.

"Oh, Mother really has broken you in, hasn't she?" The daughter--you think her name is Daniela--approaches and circles you, looking you over. "You're so pretty, it's such a shame we couldn't have played together more."

You shy away from her, but she reaches out and touches your shoulder, running her fingers down your arm.

"Mother always gets the best toys," she says, like she's pouting. "She never lets us have any fun. And I could've had so much fun with you. I could've made you bleed all over those pretty tits-"

"Daniela."

The two of you look up to see Lady Dimitrescu. She's standing just inside the doorway, looking displeased. You startle at the sight of her, because you had no idea she could move as quietly as she must've had to in order to sneak up on the two of you.

Daniela backs away, taking her hand off you. She looks at the ground.

Lady Dimitrescu strides forward and grabs her chin, forcing her to look into her eyes.

"What," she snarls, "have I told you about touching things that don't belong to you?"

Daniela's eyes lock with Lady Dimitrescu's. "You've told me not to, Mother."

"And so what should you do going forward?"

She sounds furious, and you find yourself shrinking at the tone she's using even though it isn't directed at you.

"I shouldn't touch what isn't mine."

"There's a good girl." Lady Dimitrescu releases Daniela. There's a brief moment where she pauses before she turns back to you. That winning smile is back on her face, like the whole exchange had never happened. "My dear, breakfast will be out in just a moment."

Lady Dimitrescu sits at the head of the table, and you realize that the seat that you had sat on last night is nowhere to be seen.

Before you can ask where it is, a serving girl enters, bringing your breakfast. Her pace stutters at the sight of you and she almost drops the plate, but recovers and approaches the table.

"Set it on the floor," Lady Dimitrescu orders. She snaps her fingers and points to the spot next to her. "Here."

The serving girl sets the plate down in the shown spot. She glances at you again before hurrying out of the room.

"Come, my dear," Lady Dimitrescu calls. "Come eat."

You come over and remain standing, looking from her to the plate on the floor and back.

"Is something the matter, pet?"

"Do I…have to sit on the floor?"

"My dear." She looks at you with that exasperated expression she has when you don't immediately obey her. "You're getting rather mouthy. But I suppose I'll explain--this time. You don't let your dogs eat at the table with you, do you?" She pauses briefly, watching your face expectantly. "No, of course not. Why? Because they're pets, dear. They aren't at the same status as everyone else in the household. Now, sit."

You hesitate a moment.

"Sit."

You sit next to her. The cool stone floor chills you as you sit and begin to eat the food provided.

Lady Dimitrescu pets your hair idly with one hand.

"Daniela, dearest," she calls. "Why are you still here, sweetheart?"

You look up and notice that sure enough, Daniela didn't slip out of the room quietly once Lady Dimitrescu was finished with her. She's watching you, her eyes fixed on your body.

You shrink under her gaze.

"Can I not look, Mother?"

"Daniela. Behave."

Daniela dips her head in acknowledgement and makes a swift departure.

As you eat, you think about what Lady Dimitrescu had said earlier. Something about some event later today.

You chew and swallow your current mouthful. "What's later today?"

"Nothing you have to worry about, my sweet. Mommy's taking care of it." She picks up one of the wine glasses on the table and passes it down to you. "Drink, darling."

You take the glass and drain it before hurriedly eating the rest of your food. You know what the wine means, one lesson was enough to teach you that.

Sure enough, your body starts heating up by the time you finish your food. Your cheeks grow hotter and you feel desire coiling in your gut. You press your thighs together involuntarily.

Lady Dimitrescu watches as you finish your meal. She rises once you're done, giving your head two quick pats.

"Now, my dear. Come along. It's time to begin."

She gathers up the supplies from the table and leaves the room. Again, as always, you follow behind her.

She leads you through the halls to a room you haven't seen before. It's large, with a great deal of windows that have the curtains drawn. The walls that don't have windows have paintings--a numerous amount of them.

And in the center of the room there's a throne.

You're starting to really heat up, now, and you're not altogether present as your mind starts thinking of other things. Things like the taste of Lady Dimitrescu, the way her hands feel on you, the way she sounds when she's teasing you…

She leads you to the throne, and you stand in front of it. Lady Dimitrescu puts on the strap-on and applies a generous amount of slick to it. She sits on the throne and barely has to pat her lap before you're climbing into it.

"Oh, good girl," she croons. "Is someone eager?"

You nod. She picks you up and arranges you so that your back is pressed against her front, and you're looking out across the room.

"The main event is about to start, dear," she husks in your ear. "Are you ready?"

You nod hurriedly.

She guides you down on her cock, and you groan as you take it to the hilt.

"Ah, ah," she tuts. "Mommy wants you to be quiet again, dear. Just like we practiced this morning. Can you do that for me?"

You nod and bow your head. Lady Dimitrescu takes a hand off you, and the next thing you know the doors are opening.

You look up and see a half dozen people filing into the room, all wearing expressions of shock at the sight of you.

You let out a distressed whimper and squirm in her lap. She holds you tight to her with one arm wrapped around your middle.

"No, pet," she chastises. "Silent and still."

Your cheeks burn, but you do as she says. The wine is making your head spin and your inhibitions lower, but there's still enough of you sane to be embarrassed.

She calls someone forward, and you hear a man talking. As the man talks, Lady Dimitrescu starts to bounce you slightly in her lap. You feel the cock thrusting inside you with every bounce, and you bow your head, letting out the slightest whimper. Between the fucking last night, earlier this morning, and now, your pussy is achingly sensitive.

Lady Dimitrescu brings her arm up from your middle and wraps a hand around your throat--not choking you, but threatening it.

The man in front of you stammers and pauses.

"Don't waste my time," Lady Dimitrescu snaps. "You're here to present an issue to me. Present it."

The man continues. Lady Dimitrescu seems to listen intently, and when he's done she says something that you don't catch.

The next three people proceed the same way. Lady Dimitrescu fucks you idly as they present their issue, she responds, and they step back to wait with the rest of the group.

With each person that goes before her, your head spins a bit more, and you lose yourself in the pleasure she's providing you.

Your eyes are open and unseeing as she waves the next person forward.

And suddenly, the routine is broken.

Your eyes widen as you recognize Richard. You squirm in her grasp but she tightens her arm threateningly around your middle .

"Pet," she warns. "If you're not going to stay still, there'll be a punishment later."

You ignore her and squirm more. You don't want him to see you like this-

She tightens her arm around your middle and brings you down hard on her cock. The action makes you whimper, and you still.

Richard isn't looking at the two of you. He seems to be trying to look anywhere else.

"Richard Deakins," she purrs. "How wonderful to see you again."

Richard looks up at the two of you briefly before looking away.

"My Lady," he replies. His voice is quiet and softer than you're used to. "You summoned me?"

"I did." Lady Dimitrescu idly bounces you on her cock. "Tell me, Richard, what do you see?"

He looks up at the two of you again and looks away just as fast. He stays silent a moment too long, because Lady Dimitrescu speaks.

"This is the girl you gave me, Richard. She's such a pretty thing, bouncing on my cock--by all accounts, I should be ecstatic…but I'm not. Do you know why I'm displeased?"

He shakes his head.

"I was promised a virgin, Richard," she drawls, seemingly bored. "She was no virgin when she came to my castle."

Richard seems shocked by this. He stammers, but Lady Dimitrescu interrupts him.

"I don't want to hear you floundering for an excuse," she snaps. "I was promised a virgin, Richard. I am still owed a virgin."

"Please," he says softly. "I gave you a girl, you're obviously enjoying her-"

"I don't care," she replies. "This isn't about enjoying things, Richard--it's about getting what I was promised. If I let you off the hook for giving me a slut, then everyone else might get the same idea. And then where would I be?"

He doesn't answer.

"Richard. You have until tomorrow to deliver a new girl to me--a virgin, this time." She waves her hand dismissively. "Go."

He looks up at you briefly before turning and leaving.

There's one person left in the group that hasn't gone, and your eyes widen as you realize who it is.

"Reginald Barnaby," Lady Dimitrescu calls. "I summoned you to speak with you. Approach."

The boy who took your virginity approaches the throne, seemingly unaware of the danger he's in.

You squirm slightly, and that same arm goes back around your middle and tightens before bouncing you up and down a bit rougher. Thoughts of protest leave your head as the cock presses deep into you.

"You summoned me, Lady Dimitrescu?" The boy is looking up at the Lady and you, seemingly without any knowledge of why he's there. "You wished to speak with me?"

"I did. Tell me, Reginald. I hear you're the son of a prior."

"I am, My Lady."

"And what beliefs does your father hold?"

The boy seems confused by this question. "What do you mean?"

"Is he of the Christian faith?" The boy nods, so she continues. "So the tenants of the Christian faith apply. Things like kindness, generosity…chastity?"

The boy nods again. "I'm sorry, My Lady," he says. "I'm not sure I understand why I'm here."

"Do you not recognize her?" Lady Dimitrescu motions to you. "Do you really not have an inkling of who she is?"

Reginald looks at you, taking in your face, your hair, your body-

He gasps your name, and Lady Dimitrescu laughs.

"Oh, there it is." You can't see it, but you can hear the smile in her voice. "You're useless as a holy man, but I really should thank you," she muses. "You deflowered her and made her worthless to me in the ways I originally wanted her, so I had to find other uses for her. And what good uses they've been."

She nuzzles into your neck, right over where the bite from yesterday was. You're realizing that with your legs spread like they are, the bite on your thigh is also visible. You blush despite yourself and avert your eyes.

"She takes cock like a champion," Lady Dimitrescu says, her voice low. "She loves it. She loves getting fucked by me. And I've been fucking her often."

Reginald seems to splutter helplessly, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Tell me, Reginald," she says. "How did you have her?"

Reginald splutters again, and you want to sink into the floor.

"I…I-" Reginald swallows. "She was on her back. In my room."

Lady Dimitrescu's hands roam your body, making a show of touching you and claiming you.

"Tell me, my dear," she husks in your ear, still loud enough for him to hear. "Whose cock is bigger?"

"Yours, Mommy."

"And who fucks you better?"

"You, Mommy."

"Good girl." Lady Dimitrescu raises her head from where she had been nuzzling your neck to look at Reginald. "You see, boy…something must be done. I can't just let you leave. It's the principle of the matter, you understand. What do you think we should do with him, pet?"

Your mind comes to attention and you realize what she's asking you.

"Well…"

"You said it yourself," she reminds you, "that it was a tryst and nothing more. So you don't care about him, right?"

"No, I don't."

"Good. Then there's no problem giving him to my daughters."

You shift uncomfortably, drawing her attention back to you.

"That is, unless you do care about him," she says, low and dangerous. "In which case, well…we can't have that. I asked you for your loyalty, dear. All of it. If you're even remotely loyal to someone else…" She trails off and the implication hangs in the air.

You bow your head and take a few quick moments to think, and you're sorry Reggie but-

"I don't care about him," you say, trying to sound sure. "You can do whatever you want with him."

"Excellent." Lady Dimitrescu calls for her daughters, and they enter soon enough. "Dears, I have a gift for you. A boy--and you may do whatever you wish with him."

They hardly even look twice at the two of you as they laugh and chatter with glee. And one of them grabs Reginald-

You look away, but you hear Reginald protesting, pleading. The noises fade as he's dragged out of the room, accompanied by the harsh buzzing of insects.

Lady Dimitrescu waves her hand dismissively. "Leave us."

Everyone else filters out hurriedly, and the doors soon boom closed, leaving you and Lady Dimitrescu alone.

Her wraps her arms around you, enveloping you in her embrace. You're stiff in her arms, and she notices.

"Oh, are you upset, pet?"

You don't reply.

"He had to be made an example of, my dear." Her hand comes down and covers your sex. "No one else gets to have this," she growls. "You're mine. Do you understand me?"

You nod shakily.

She begins fucking you, driving into you with deep thrusts. You try to stay neutral, but her hand on your sex starts teasing your clit, and you buck and groan against her.

"Mine," she murmurs. "My dear, my slut, my pet. You belong to me. Don’t forget that."

You don't know how long she fucks you for. She drives into you again and again, bringing you down on her cock hard and fast. Your chest heaves as she bounces you, and your head leans back against her as you pant for breath. Your eyes go to the ceiling and stay there as you let yourself get lost in the pleasure she's providing.

The pleasure is immense, but eventually it starts to grow uncomfortable.

"Mommy," you whimper. "It's starting to hurt."

She immediately lifts you off her cock, settling you in her lap.

"Well, we can't have you getting all worn out just yet," she concedes. "Here, my dear."

She stands, bringing you up in her arms with her. She carries you out of the room, heading down the halls.

Your eyes close, and you find yourself drifting off in her arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew, that was certainly A Chapter That I Wrote With My Two Hands. anyway. i'm trying to update every other day and i don't think i'll have problems with that going forward as i have a bit of a backlog, but if i do run into problems i'll let you all know
> 
> preview:  
> "Now, pet--would you like a bit of a treat?"  
> "What?"   
> There's a hot ache between your legs, but you don't know if you can handle being fucked by her again.   
> "Oh, my dear. Mommy was just wondering if you wanted to come."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! enjoy this chapter ^^ just a little warning like last time for impact play this chapter, i'm adding that tag to it but i still wanted to let you all know

That night, after a dinner served on the floor, you find yourself in her chambers again. You're kneeling on the rug, feeling the coarse fibers pressing into your knees.

Lady Dimitrescu is at her vanity, going through what seems to be her normal nightly routine. She's taking her hair out of its usual perfect curls. Pin after pin comes out, and she picks up a brush and brushes her hair, working from the bottom up slowly.

You look down at your hands. You have them in front of you, palm up, holding a riding crop that she has told you not to drop. You can easily guess what she's going to do with it, and you give a thick swallow despite yourself.

After she's done with her hair, she takes her earrings out and her necklace off. She cleans off her makeup carefully, taking her time. When she's done, she turns to you.

Without all the makeup, she looks more human. Her skin is still that flawless alabaster, but her eyes aren't lined with dark liner or decorated with mascara, and her lips are a more normal shade of pale pink.

"My dear," she says, rising from her desk. "You're going to be punished. Do you know why?"

"Because I was misbehaving during…" You pause, trying to think of what to call the meeting that had happened today. "I'm sorry, Mommy, I don't know what it's called."

"I was hearing the pleas of my subjects," she replies. "Coram Rege--in front of the king."

"I was misbehaving during that," you say.

She sits on the bed, motioning you to come forward. You shuffle over and kneel in front of her, still holding the riding crop in your upturned hands.

She extends a leg, brushing the toe of her high-heel against your bare sex. You gasp and press your thighs together, but she urges them open with the tip of her shoe.

"Dear," she drawls, as if she wasn't teasing you like she was. "You know why I have to do this, right?"

You nod. "Yes, Mommy."

"Why?"

"Because I was disobeying," you say. "And you don't like it when I disobey."

"Oh, there's a good girl."

She brushes your sex with her high-heel again. You squeeze your eyes shut and whimper in response. She toys with you for a little longer before she pulls away suddenly.

She holds out her hand, and you give her the riding crop.

"Hands and knees," she orders.

You get on your hands and knees, parallel to the bed. She sets her feet on your back, the hard material of her heels pressing into your flesh.

You bow your head and wait.

She taps your ass a few times with the crop, and each time you think it's going to hurt more than it does.

You're just getting comfortable with the taps when the crop smacks into your ass. You squeeze your eyes closed and jolt at the impact. It stings as it first hits you, morphing into a pain that feels so intense that you're worried you might bruise. After the initial pain dissipates, the spot where she has hit you burns like fire.

"Oh, you poor thing…you were so noisy earlier today." You can hear her laugh. "Now you can be as loud as you want."

She smacks you again. You jerk forward again, but only a small whimper comes from your grit teeth.

"Are you going to disappoint me by shutting that mouth of yours now?"

Another impact. Your ass hurts from each sequential smack, and you whimper.

She switches things up, trailing the tip of the riding crop along your thighs.

"I can keep going all night, dear," she says sweetly. "Mommy just wants to hear you scream."

The next two swats are in rapid succession, and your pained noises get louder.

Despite yourself, you feel heat rising in your gut from the rough treatment and the things she's saying.

The pause between those and the next one is so long that you think she might've gotten tired of this, but the next swats draws a yelp from you.

"How are you doing, pet?"

You nod shakily.

"Can you handle four more?"

You nod again. You brace yourself just in time for two more swats, one right after the other. You cry out, and your head drops after the initial pain fades. You're surprised to find you're shaking.

"Two more, pet. Do you want them one at a time?"

You shake your head.

She hits you twice more, drawing more pained noises from your throat. You're really shaking, now. She drags the tip of the crop across the places she's hit, and you're sure that they're going to turn into actual marks later.

Once she takes her feet off your back and withdraws the crop, you breathe out a sigh of relief.

Lady Dimitrescu stands, and you wait on your hands and knees. Suddenly, one of her heels returns to your back, forcing you down and keeping you flush against the floor.

"Do you understand, now? Do you understand what I expect from you, and what your place is?"

"You expect me to be obedient," you choke out. "My place is…" You swallow. "Under you, taking your cock."

"Correct." She presses her foot down against you a bit harder. "You're proving to be smarter than I had previously assumed."

You stay still under her as she continues to talk.

"Now, pet. How are you feeling?"

You nod.

"Speak, dear. How are you feeling?"

"I…" You trail off. "That hurt."

"It was supposed to, my dear. Perhaps you'll learn." You can hear the smile in her voice. "Now, pet--would you like a bit of a treat?"

"What?"

There's a hot ache between your legs, but you don't know if you can handle being fucked by her again.

"Oh, my dear. Mommy was just wondering if you wanted to come."

You actually whimper at the thought of coming, of her with her mouth on you.

"Oh, it looks like someone does want to come," she coos. "How badly do you want it, dear?"

"Very badly, Mommy," you pant.

"Oh, needy thing…and how do you want Mommy to fuck you?"

You blush, but you speak. "I want your mouth, Mommy."

"You want my mouth?" She hums, thinking, dragging out the game. "Well, I suppose since you took your punishment so well, I can let you have it. Stand."

Her foot lifts from your back, and you get to your feet. You stand in front of her, hands clasped together. Your eyes meet, and you can see that hers are dark with lust.

She steps forward and gently smooths a hand over your hair. She smiles down at you with that familiar smile you've come to know.

"So, my dear," she says, trailing her hand down to your chin to tilt your face towards her, "I imagine you're sore. Sitting would be hard for you right now, wouldn't it?"

You nod. "Yes, Mommy."

"I thought so."

She picks you up with that inhuman strength, and you let out a surprised yelp and wrap your arms around her neck. She carries you to the bed and taps your arms.

"Release, pet. I won't let you fall."

You relax, and she tips you backwards so that your shoulders are resting on the bed, with your legs over her shoulders and her hands supporting your ass. This position feels ridiculous until she kneels by the side of the bed. The angle becomes less extreme, and you're internally grateful that she's found a way to eat you out without you having to be resting on your back.

She nuzzles against your inner thighs, but her eyes are on you the whole time. You're still trembling from the punishment, and that fact seems to be driving her wild, judging by the hitch in her breath and the look in her eyes.

You look up at her with a pleading gaze, begging with your eyes for her to start.

She presses soft kisses to the insides of your thighs, trailing up to your sex, getting closer and closer-

And she pulls away, kissing up the other side. Once she gets to your sex again, she licks the juncture there where your thigh connects. Your hips buck and you whimper, loud.

She takes her time teasing you--licking and kissing you achingly close to where you actually need her, but not close enough to satisfy.

Your whines and whimpers get more frequent and louder, and when she actually puts her mouth on you it draws a loud groan from your throat.

She goes to work, lavishing attention on your clit, rasping her tongue over the sensitive bud.

Your eyes open to see her watching you with those golden eyes. She doesn't once take her gaze off of you while she pleasures you with her tongue, but she does smile once she sees that you notice her.

She pulls away from your clit, trailing her tongue down. From this angle, she can reach your entrance easily. She laps there, tasting you. Her eyes flicker closed for a moment as she samples from the source, and you feel the heat in your gut intensify. Knowing that she was savoring you as much as you had savored her last night makes your heart pound faster.

She circles your entrance with her tongue before pushing inside.

You arch your back even more, mouth opening soundlessly.

She lingers at your entrance for a time, lapping at the wetness that's collected there, pushing her tongue inside for a better taste every so often. But soon enough, she moves back to your clit, returning her attention to it. She stops rasping her tongue over it for a moment to take it in her mouth, sucking hard and drawing a moan from you.

Your hands fist in the sheets, trying to ground yourself as she continues eating you out with an ease and expertise that came from years of practice--possibly even several lifetimes' worth.

Her hands tighten where they’re holding your legs, and you feel her fingernails pressing into you. Her eyes are still on you, and you blush at the knowledge that she's drinking in the sight of you coming undone as much as she's drinking you in physically.

You have an idea, and you debate with yourself over it for only a moment. You smile a bit impishly, and moan.

"Mommy..." The word comes out of your mouth and you swear you see her eyes widen a fraction and go even darker with lust. "Mommy, you feel so good."

She seems spurred on by this, and redoubles her pace. She lavishes attention on your clit with rough, hard passes of her tongue.

"Yes, Mommy, yes," you whine. "Mommy, I love your tongue…"

She sucks hard at your clit again and the noise it draws from you is absolutely obscene.

She keeps up with the fast pace she's set, and it doesn't take much longer for you to come undone under her tongue. All those rough, hard passes stoke a fire in you and build it up and up and up until-

Your back arches and your mouth opens soundlessly. Your eyes are wide and stare dumbly up at the ceiling as you ride out your orgasms with a series of shaky movements of your hips. It feels like your bones are shifting apart as you strain against yourself in the throes of your pleasure.

When you're done, you go limp.

Lady Dimitrescu presses one last kiss to your sex before she gently moves your thighs off her shoulders, returning them to the bed.

She stands and looks over you, taking in the look on your face and the sight of your breasts as your chest heaves. She smiles to herself and leans over you to smooth your hair back.

"Was that good, pet?"

You nod.

"Very good."

She busies herself around the room doing a few things--you don't have the mental capacity to care what she's doing as you recover.

Eventually, she comes and presses a kiss to your forehead.

"Sleep well, my pet. I'll see you in the morning."

You smile and snuggle down into the pillows, and in a matter of moments you're drifting off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!!! i hope you enjoyed ^^ 
> 
> no preview for next time--we're finally getting into something resembling Plot. chapter 7 & 8 will go up in the same day bc they're both about half the length of a normal chapter, so expect those sunday!!
> 
> (there will be plot in this fic, 7 & 8 have a bit but as we get past chapter 10 and into the teens, the plot really gets rolling)
> 
> and since i forgot to do this, my tumblr username is delunesnumberonefan, if you want to stay up to date with my lady dimitrescu posting


	7. Chapter 7

It's been a week and a half since the day you first came to Lady Dimitrescu's castle, and you've settled into the flow of things nicely. Every morning you get up, have breakfast, have free reign until dinner, and then you eat dinner and go back up to Lady Dimitrescu's rooms with her.

It's nice, you've come to realize. Despite Lady Dimitrescu's intimidating and demanding nature, she does have a soft spot for you and seems to care for you, in her own way. She doesn't show it very often, but you know it's there. She's bought you fancy clothes, nice jewelry, expensive perfumes and soaps, and every kind of comfort you can imagine. She wouldn't have done that if she didn't have at least a little affection for you.

Her daughters, on the other hand, seem like they're constantly watching you and waiting for you to slip up. But you haven't yet, and you're confident that you won't for some time.

Today is a day like any other, and you wander through the castle. You've grown bored of reading books in the library, and you've decided to go on an adventure and memorize more of the rooms and where they lead.

You explore the halls, explore each room, and are generally having a good time. 

You find one room that opens into a small parlor. There's a few dresses hanging in this room, along with a small stand and a few chairs. You're about to leave when you see something odd. You step inside the room, looking around. It's dimly lit, but there's a light coming from the other side of a wall. You circle around and do a double take at the sight.

The wall is exposed bricks, and enough of them are torn out that there's a hole big enough for someone to get through. You stick your head inside and see a ladder heading downwards.

You hear Lady Dimitrescu's warning of not going in the cellar in your head again, something you've heard time and time again.

Despite yourself, your curiosity is gnawing at you. You want to go down there, just for a look, just for a peek. What would be the harm of going down there, just for a few seconds?

You squeeze through the hole, and look down. The bottom of the ladder has a faint light coming from it, and you feel emboldened enough to climb down. The ladder is rough wood, and it digs into your hands with every step down.

With every rung you descend, a bad feeling grows in your gut. You shouldn't be here, you know you shouldn't be here. And yet here you are.

Eventually, your feet touch the bottom and you let go of the ladder, turning.

It seems to be somewhere where wine is made. There's bottles and barrels and a big vat in the corner. Some kind of tarp covers the floor.

You stand there for a moment, debating leaving. But there's a entryway leading further in that's off on the other side of the room, and you're curious…

You head for the entryway. You turn the corner and see stairs heading down, which you cautiously start descending. There's no turning back now, not before you get to see what's so important down here.

The stairs lead you down to a small room, and there's a hole at the other side that you could probably crawl through.

You wonder what this place is doing here. Surely Lady Dimitrescu doesn't know about this, or it would've been boarded up a long time ago. So what is going on?

You look through the tunnel. There seems to be a dimly lit room on the other side.

Dread pools in your stomach. It's not too late to go back, you can just leave and pretend like nothing had happened-

But you have to know.

You squeeze through the hole and crawl into the next room. There's a room with many cabinets, and a table with four chairs. Another wine barrel is down here, as well.

You barely enter the room before you notice the stench of something rotting. Following the smell to the source, you find platefuls of rotting meat. From the corner of your eye, you see something. Something wrong with the wine barrel. You go over and see that there's a human hand sticking out of it, and an arm attached leading in.

Your eyes widen, and you back up instinctively. You bump against the table, and your hand lands in the rotting meat when you try to support yourself. Your face screws in disgust and horror.

You have to get out of here before they see you, you realize. You need to get out.

You quickly hurry back the way you came, back through the tunnel, up the stairs, through the room, and up the ladder. You emerge back in the safety of the parlor, chest heaving. You look back over your shoulder at the hole in the wall.

So that's what's in the cellar. That's where they make the wine out of people.

Your stomach twists at the realization that you've drank the wine. You've drank the wine multiple times. Lady Dimitrescu usually likes the both of you to have a glass before she fucks you. She had told you early on that the wine was made from actual blood, but hearing that and seeing the hand in the barrel are two different things.

You exit the room, hurrying back to the library. At least in the library there were no dead bodies. In the library there was no rotting meat.

You enter the library and sit down at a table. Quickly, you pick up the nearest book, pretending to read. Your thoughts are everywhere else.

Maiden's blood. The girls in the castle. They're being taken down there and turned into wine…

You find yourself terrified. If you had been a virgin when coming here, you would've been turned into a bottle of wine, Lady Dimitrescu had said so herself…

You close your eyes and rest your forehead in the book. How are you going to look any of them in the eye? How are you going to sleep with Lady Dimitrescu again? And what if she wants more of the wine?

You jump when the door opens. A wide-brimmed black hat enters first, and your heart sinks instead of soars.

Lady Dimitrescu smiles at you once she's straightened back up.

"There you are, my dear." She sees you with the book. "You must've lost track of time, pet--dinner is ready."

"Yes, Mommy. I'm coming."

You set the book down without marking the page, and walk over to Lady Dimitrescu. She looks at you for a second too long before turning and ducking back out of the door, leading you to the dining hall.

You follow with a pit growing in your stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (rubs hands together evilly)


	8. Chapter 8

Dinner is served to you, and you eat on a cushion by Lady Dimitrescu's feet. This has also become a routine--though tonight you aren't thinking about how you're looking forward to "dessert," you're thinking about what you had just seen in the cellar.

The Lady and her daughters converse over wine, talking about something in an old dialect you can't understand. You wonder what they’re talking about that's so terrible that they don't want to risk you listening in.

You think about the serving girls in the palace, and how each and every one of them would probably become a bottle of wine before too much longer.

You finish eating, setting the plate down. Lady Dimitrescu's gaze is drawn down, and she smiles.

"All done, pet?"

You nod.

She rises, setting her wine down and bidding goodbye to her daughters. She makes her way out of the room and you follow dutifully behind her.

As she leads you back to her quarters in the familiar path you've been walking for the past week and a half, you worry. She's going to know in a matter of minutes that you went into the cellar, and you have no idea how she's going to react.

As you pass through certain halls, you can hear rain splattering on the windowpanes. You look at the curtained window and realize it's storming heavily outside, flashes of lightning occasionally shining through the slightest gaps in the curtains. Thunder booms in response to the lightning, loud cracks that have you feeling the reverberations in your chest. Normally, you would've been ecstatic for there to have been a storm. Now, however, your heart sinks to your shoes.

She opens the door to her quarters, letting you in first as always and locking the door behind her with a finality that makes your heart sink.

She comes forward and sets her hands on your hips. She nuzzles into your neck, noticing immediately that you're still stiff in her hands.

"Is something the matter, my dear?"

"No."

She huffs a laugh. "Alright, my dear. If you say so."

She retracts her hands and circles around, going to where the bottle of wine seems to live in her room.

"Wine, pet?"

You shake your head.

Her brows lift in surprise. She sets the wine down and turns to you, her hands on her hips.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong, dear? You always like a glass of wine before I fuck you."

"Nothing's wrong," you lie.

"You're a terrible liar," she responds.

"Can't I not be in the mood?"

"Someone else, perhaps, but I've come to learn you've got an appetite just as insatiable as mine." She's got you fixed with her golden gaze. "Are you going to tell me?"

You shake your head.

She walks over and sits in the chair across from you. She leans back in the chair and watches you for a few seconds.

Her gaze on you is making you nervous. You know she knows something is up, and perhaps telling her would be better than making her wait and making her angrier-

"I saw the cellar!" You cry at last. Your voice is shrill as you continue. "I saw where you make people into wine!"

Her eyebrows raise slightly, but that's about all the physical reaction you get.

"And what's the problem, my dear?" Her voice sounds strained, as if she's trying to keep herself composed. "You've had the wine before, you've known what it's made out of."

"Yes, but I saw it! I saw everything, all the horrible things you're doing to people!" You look at her and realize she isn't understanding. "I would've been in one of those bottles of wine if I had been a virgin," you say. "You would've drank me and have been done with it. And I'm thinking about all the other people you and your daughters have put into those bottles, and--and it's making me sick!"

She sits and let you say everything you want to say. She looks like she's barely keeping calm, but you can't stop yourself from saying the next words.

"I should've known," you say bitterly. "I should've known since the first day. You're a monster!"

There's the harsh clack of heels on tile as she stands to her full height. You shrink in on yourself, immediately regretting your words.

"My dear," she seethes, "you have no idea."

From behind you there's a flash of lightning, and you see for the briefest of moments that her shadow isn't human. There's wings and a tail and writhing tentacles, and its far larger than she is. But the lightning fades and that shadow melts back into the shadows of the room.

Her eyes seem to have taken in the lightning and shine with a golden light. She holds up both her hands, and suddenly her fingernails extend into claws that are longer than your forearm.

"You should hope," she snarls, and you can see her fangs flash as she talks, "that this is the most monstrous you ever see me, my dear. Because if I go any farther? You have no idea how nasty I can get."

She closes her eyes and her monstrous features fade. You can hear the anger in her next words.

"If that's how you want to do it, fine," she snaps. Her eyes open and fix you with a furious gaze. "You're getting privileges revoked. And because I refuse to have a freeloader in my castle, you're going to work. You start with the cook tomorrow morning." She shakes her head. "And if I'm so monstrous, then you'll be glad that I won't touch you from now on. Let's see how long you can stay away before you come crawling back and begging for me to fuck you."

She heads for the door, stopping and glaring at you on her way out.

"I should've kept you on a leash. Maybe then you would've behaved."

She slams the door behind her, and you can hear her stalk down the halls.

You sit down on the bed, and you can feel yourself shaking from the adrenaline of confronting her.

You sigh, and look around at the opulent room. You suddenly feel very small in the face of the castle you're in and all its occupants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you think about this one!! i've gone back and forth on having these chapters or not having them, and i want to know if they work or not!!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey all!! sorry about the wait--this chapter has been staring me in the eye for too long and i've just now got it to a point where i'm somewhat happy with it.

You’re awoken in the morning by pounding on the door.

You prop yourself up to a seated position, looking around blearily. You’re in Lady Dimitrescu’s chambers, like normal. After a second, you remember what had happened last night, and why being here might not be a good thing.

You rise from the bed and groggily pad to the door.

You open the door and are greeted by the sight of Daniela. Your eyes widen as you take a half-step back.

“Good morning,” Daniela says sweetly. “Mother wanted me to deliver a message.”

You nod, waiting for her to go on.

“And these.” She drops a set of servant’s clothes in front of you. “Mother says you’re to work with the cook, stay in the servant’s quarters in the east wing, and to wear these.” Daniela looks you up and down. “She also says that you have to keep the collar on.”

You pause, thinking that request over. You decide you don’t exactly like it, but you suppose disobeying is worse.

“Oh, and one more thing. This one’s not from Mother.” Daniela’s eyes flash as she tilts her head. “You step one foot out of line and I get to have a turn with you. We’ll see how long you can hold my mother’s attention without a tongue.”

She smiles at you and walks away, leaving you looking after her and wondering what the fuck her problem is.

You pick up the clothes provided and dress quickly. You take a moment to look at yourself in the mirror, taking in the sight of you in a neat, plain, black smock. The collar is still fixed around your neck, and you decide that you hate it.

But you swallow the discomfort and leave the room, heading through the halls to the kitchen. You have only been there a few times, but you know where it is.

You arrive and see a man kneading dough.

“Hi,” you say. “I’m supposed to be starting here today.”

He looks you up and down, and his eyes linger on your collar.

“Ah, you’re that one.”

Your brows furrow at that term, but you don’t say anything.

“I can’t argue with our lady’s will,” he says. “Chop those, will you?”

He motions to a pile of vegetables laying next to a cutting board.

You move over to it and pick up a knife, setting about doing what he says. For the next few hours, you chop vegetables. Carrots, celery, onions, potatoes—whenever you finish with a pile of one, he puts another in front of you.

At one point, a maid bustles in. You look up and you’re surprised to find you recognize her.

“Claire?”

She turns towards you, and sure enough, it’s her. One of Richard’s daughters. 

She looks at you for only a moment before she leaves the kitchen again.

You wonder how busy she’s being kept, and if they’re treating her well. You genuinely hope she’s alright—she seems it, but you’re not sure.

But your thoughts are interrupted by another bundle of carrots being placed in front of you, and you go back to chopping. You’re kept busy; after you finish with the vegetables, the cook sets you on the pile of dishes in the sink. You wash and scrub until your arms hurt, and you keep scrubbing after that. You’re used to kitchen work; it’s what Richard would have you do to pay your way in exchange for food and a place to stay.

When dinner comes, you get a break. You help carry out the tray of rolls the cook had been working on all day, while the cook carries out heavy vats of stew. You take them to the dining room you had seen on your first day, the one where the servants ate.

You take a seat near the end of the table and begin to eat.

The rest of the servants come in a few at a time, and take their seats. A few recognize you, but none talk to you. They sit and eat in silence.

You wonder if it’s because of you, or if they’re normally this quiet.

Soon enough, conversation starts up at the other end of the table, and you’re given your answer.

You run your fingers over the collar around your neck, and you think dark thoughts about Lady Dimitrescu. She did this on purpose, and you know it’s a way to keep you alone.

You do see her that night. After cleaning the dishes you see her, albeit barely. You’re on the way back to the quarters you were assigned, and you see her out of the corner of your eye. A pillar of white that vanishes when you turn to look.

Your mood is sour as you go the the quarters and claim the last unused bed. You settle down to sleep.

“Hey.”

You peek an eye open to see one of the maids looking at you.

“What?”

“You’re the one who slept with her, right?”

You close your eyes again.

“Aw, no fair! Please!”

“Please, what?” You ask.

“What’s it like? Sleeping with someone like that?”

It says something that you have to bite back a retort about how she shouldn’t be referring to Lady Dimitrescu as “someone like that.” But you do bite it down, and you sigh.

“Someone like what?”

“A vampire!” The maid rolls her eyes at you. “Lillian saw you with bites all over.”

“Goodnight,” you say and roll over.

“You’re no fun,” the maid complains.

You settle down to sleep, and now you’re really thinking dark thoughts about her, about how you’re probably the hot gossip of the castle at any given moment.

Over the next week or so, you adapt to life in the kitchen. You chop, you sauté, you bake, you do whatever the cook asks of you. Every day is long, and every night you fall asleep quickly. The maids don’t try to talk to you anymore, not after the first night.

You see her from time to time. Never for long, and you never speak with her, but every so often you do see her. Sitting in a room with the door open as you pass by, clicking down the halls in her heels as you move from room to room.

The first few times, you stew on your thoughts. But she becomes a sort of apparition that you can’t get enough of.

The night where you catch yourself wanting her again is a strange one. 

You’re thinking, idly pondering her and how you had seen her having tea with her daughters that day. You think about her, how she looked so regal, and you find yourself missing her. And your mind wanders down a path that you’ve tried not to go down as you remember the way her fingers held the teacup so delicately despite their size, and-

You shake your head to clear your thoughts. No. Not going down that one.

But over the next few days, you realizing you’re getting…desperate. You can’t find any relief in the wee hours of the night because of the public quarters. Every time you see her you feel like a feral cat in heat, and the rational and primal parts of you war.

One part says you can’t give in, and that it’s as much of a pride thing as a morality thing. The other side points out that she fucks so hard it feels like your pussy got hit by a train, and what’s pride and morality when compared to that, anyway?

So you stew in these conflicted feelings.

One time, you see her walking past and you almost go into the hall and beg her to take you back. But you don’t. You stay where you are, gripping the knife you're using so hard your knuckles turn white.

A different day, you’re headed back to the kitchen when you spot Claire again. She’s been scarce ever since that first day, and seems to have been making active efforts to avoid you.

She’s headed down the hall slightly in front of you, and you jog to catch up.

“Claire?”

She turns and sees you, and her expression grows stormy. She stops and turns, waiting for you to catch up.

“What do you want?”

You’re surprised to hear anger in her voice.

“What? I just wanted to see if you were alright.”

“Why do you care? You ruined my life!”

“What?”

Claire looks at you like she can’t believe you don’t understand. “If you had been a virgin, I never would’ve had to come here!” She shakes her head. “Instead, you’re some—some slut! Do you really feel nothing? No guilt? They’re vampires!”

You don’t look at her, and you don’t answer her, either.

“You’re disgusting.” Claire’s voice is filled with venom. “Sleeping with them, like they don’t kill people. They’ll kill you eventually, you know. When they get tired of you, you’re dead.”

Your eyes go back to her, and you see her looking at you with disgust. But most importantly, you see the figure behind her.

Your eyes widen, but she continues, not understanding the danger she’s in.

“Father never should’ve taken you in,” she snaps.

“Claire-“

“Shut up! _Shut up!”_ She steps forward and grabs you by the shoulders, almost as if she’s going to shake you. “You got me into this mess, all because you couldn’t keep your legs closed! And now you’re spreading them for that _monster-“_

_“That’s enough.”_

Lady Dimitrescu’s voice is clear, low, and dangerous. The sound of her heels clicking slowly on the tiles as she approaches sends your heart to your shoes.

Claire blanches and stands up straight as a rod, letting you go.

You take a step back, watching as Lady Dimitrescu takes her time coming down the hall. She stops behind Claire. She looks down at her before her eyes flick up to you for a brief moment, and then back.

“I believe,” she starts, “that you’ve touched something that doesn’t belong to you, maid.”

"I'm sorry, Ma'am." Claire's voice is stiff like you've never heard it before.

"Not only have you touched something that's not yours," she continues, heedless of the apology, "you've also disrespected me in a way I can't tolerate. Two egregious errors, wouldn't you say?"

Claire gives a small nod, barely a jerk of her head. You can see now that she's trembling.

"I believe," Lady Dimitrescu starts, "that the dining room needs to be set for our dinner. See to it."

Claire's face shows her relief and she goes to hurry off, but pauses as Lady Dimitrescu speaks.

"We'll be speaking again soon, little maid."

Claire's eyes fill with tears, and she hurries off before they fall. 

You stay silent as Lady Dimitrescu watches her go. As soon as Claire is out of sight, she turns her attention to you.

"Pet."

"Are you going to turn her into wine?"

"I was going to give her to my daughters," Lady Dimitrescu says casually. "Disrespecting the Lady of the house warrants a more severe punishment."

You nod, pausing. "And I suppose there's no way for me to bargain for her?"

Lady Dimitrescu laughs. "Bargain with what, pet? You don't have much to offer."

"I'll be good," you try. "I'll do whatever you want."

She laughs again. "That would be something you would enjoy, my dear." Her eyes rake over you before coming back to your face. "I want something you can't afford to lose."

You scramble for something, anything. Claire had never been good to you, but you can't just let her die.

You can't give your life in place of hers--Lady Dimitrescu would never allow it. You can't give Lady Dimitrescu your service--she already said that. You can't…

You begin to realize that you don't have anything you can bargain with.

"I don't know what you want of me," you say softly.

"Pity," she says. "I suppose that poor girl will make a marvelous toy for my daughters, then."

And it surprises you when you begin to cry. It's out of frustration, out of helplessness, out of the knowledge that you're trapped in ways you hadn't realized. It's silent at first. Tears well in your eyes, and trickle down your cheeks.

Some strange look comes onto Lady Dimitrescu's face, and she bends down and cups your cheek in her hand. She swipes with her thumb, catching a tear with the action.

"My dear," she says, "do you really think my hand has every been stayed by tears before?"

You shake your head. "No." She looks down at you crossly, so you're quick to add on. "No, Ma'am."

"Then why do you cry? It accomplishes nothing."

"I-I don't know," you say. "I just don't want her to die."

"She treated you like that and you still want her to keep her life?"

You nod.

"Why?"

"She…" you pause and lick your lips. "I lived with her for years."

Lady Dimitrescu says nothing, and continues studying you.

"Richard deserved worse," you say softly. "He sold me out, and I can't forgive him for that. But Claire doesn’t deserve to be treated cruelly."

She stays silent for a few more moments, during which you scrub at your eyes to banish the tears.

"Humans," she says. "I will never understand your sentimentality towards those who don't deserve it." She straightens and looks down at you. "I cannot simply let her get away with these transgressions, you understand."

You don't say anything. 

She looks down at you and then does a double take. Her eyes widen ever so slightly before she seems to get a handle on herself.

"We will figure out what to do with her later," she says quickly.

You look up at her with confusion. It seems like something has changed about the situation, and she suddenly seems…stressed?

"Are you alright?"

She brings a hand up and presses the back against her mouth and nose. "I…I have to be going."

She turns and heads for the door at the end of the hall. She looks back at you briefly before ducking through the door and disappearing.

You stare after her and wonder what in the blazes just went on.

You're curious, and maybe this is stupid, but-

You follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope that was worth the wait!! again--im terribly sorry about that. i was just facing some major writing block and writerly doubt. this chapter caused me to change like 75% of the rest of the story from what it originally was in the outline, and so i've been banging my head against a wall trying to make it work
> 
> with luck, we won't have a wait like this again!! i know where the rest of the story is going now, and i hope that it'll go smoothly from here on out!!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a relatively short chapter today!! you guys had so many good thoughts and theories about why Lady Dimitrescu was acting the way she was and i'm almost that meme of like "well now i don't want to say" but im going to give the disclaimer for New and slightly Weird Kink and that's going to give everything away. and im going to say here that there's no real plot here, so if this New and slightly Weird Kink grosses you out, you're not missing anything.
> 
> ready?? here it goes. warning for period sex. and slight biological inaccuracies, but i'll elaborate more on that at the end
> 
> this chapter keeps staring me in the eye and i just have to post it. here goes

You go through the doors and see her quickly making her way down the hall. As soon as you enter, she turns. She stares at you crossly for a just a moment before continuing.

And it feels stupid. It feels _so_ stupid. But you jog down the hallway towards her.

"My dear," she grits without looking at you. "Leave."

"Are you alright?"

It's some weird feeling you have, but you know something isn't right with her. And an even weirder part of you is concerned.

"I'm perfectly fine." She quickens her pace, and you can't help but think that it feels like she's running from you. "Leave me be."

You stop in the middle of the hallway and look after her.

She stops once she reaches the other side. She looks back at you for a brief moment, making eye contact. Her hand is on the door, about to push it open-

You spread your arms in a motion that conveys your confusion.

Something snaps within her and she crosses the hallway in a instant. One second she's at the door, and then you blink and she has you by the front of your shirt and forces you against the wall.

She cocks her head in a predatory manner and stares down at you.

"You can never leave well enough alone," she snarls.

Your heart is beating fast in your chest, and you're realizing that your damned curiosity is going to get you killed.

You stare up at her helplessly, wide-eyed.

She brings you up until she has you at eye level. And then she leans forward and inhales, breathing you in. Her eyes flicker closed.

Your breaths are coming rapidly, and you're breathing shallow so you don't press against her more than is already necessary.

"You don't even know, do you?"

You shake your head.

She hitches up your dress and runs her nails along your thighs as she brings them up and up.

"My dear," she starts, and she sounds like she's going to lose what's left of her composure at any second. "I usually distance myself from the maids for a week every month. They sync up, and when that week comes around I usually can't help myself, so I stay away…" She inhales again. "But you were stupid enough to follow."

You swallow thickly.

"You just started your bleed," she continues. "You probably didn't even realize yet, but I can smell it. And you smell so good…I could rip everything off of you and take you right here."

You squirm and she holds you tighter. But something crosses her face, and she looks away from you.

She shakes her head and lowers you, looking as if she's trying to come to her senses-

"Please."

She looks at you with surprise.

"Please, Mommy."

That snaps her already fragile resolve.

She tears the dress from your body, dropping the ruined fabric to the ground. Your panties and bra are next, hopelessly ruined like the dress.

The cool air of the castle makes your nipples pebble immediately. You gasp as she presses your bare skin against the wall, the cool stone chilling you in a way that you find startingly arousing.

The only way you can think to describe her is hungry. She lifts you to her level and hungrily buries her tongue inside you. Her tongue slides into you with ease, and you blush from how filthy this all is.

And her tongue keeps sliding into you, and keeps sliding into you.

Your eyes widen as you realize that--oh, her claws aren't the only things that extend.

You wriggle in her grasp just to make her hold you tighter, and she does. Her grip on you tightens to a near painful degree, and you feel more than hear her growl low in her throat; a threat to keep you from moving too much.

Her tongue swirls inside you, and you can't help a filthy moan in response.

It's evident that her main goal isn't to pleasure you. Her tongue isn't purposefully hitting those spots inside you--rather, she's drinking you up.

You blush again at that realization, the thought that she's feeding from you in a way that would make most humans horrified. She seems to be enjoying it, though, as small moans reverberate from her throat into your core.

And then her tongue presses deep against you, probing for-

Your eyes widen as you feel it brush against your cervix.

"Mommy-?"

She growls again in a warning that interrupts your train of thought. You can't help but associate it with a wild dog--one that's feeling threatened by the possibility of its food being taken away before it's done eating.

Her tongue brushes against your cervix again, and then presses against it. You can feel it slip inside, slip deeper, and the sensation…it's painful. Something is going against the natural course of things that your body is used to, it's bound to hurt.

You let out a groan that's half pain half pleasure, and it seems to spur her on. She presses deeper into you, and it's a weird feeling--you can keenly feel about half of her tongue, and the other half is somewhere deeper inside where you can hardly feel it at all.

She lets out a noise that makes you flush dark crimson; a noise of satisfaction, a guttural moan.

You can feel her tongue moving and pressing and twisting against your cervix. Each stretch makes you wince, but the base of her tongue provides enough friction to somewhat soothe the pain.

Your breath is coming in ragged pants, making your chest heave. You can't take your eyes off her, the way she's buried her face in your cunt, heedless of any mess or anyone walking in or anything but her own satisfaction.

She drinks from you for a long while. She keeps you pressed against the wall until she's done, until she's had her fill.

She retracts her tongue once she's finished, and it shrinks and settles into a normal shape as she licks your entrance, lapping up anything she had missed while inside.

She parts from you, and you're surprised to find her panting harder than you are. Her eyes are closed, and a look of bliss is on her face. Your blood coats her mouth and chin, and it's filthy, yes--but in some weird way it's also sexy to see her lose control like this.

She opens her eyes, and she's looking at you like she wants another round and more of you to drink.

"My dear," she says, and you can hear the ecstasy in her voice, "I found you at exactly the right time. Now, come along."

She adjusts her grip on you and settles you in her arms. She starts making her way through the halls, taking the stairs up to the second level. You dimly recognize this to be one of many routes to her room. You grin--a bit impishly--and settle into her arms, waiting for what's to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we are, at the end of...whatever that was. 
> 
> the biological inaccuracies i mentioned was that--hey! shit going through your cervix fucking hurts. like really really bad. like putting in iud's is comparable to labor pains. but we're ignoring that for the sake of this fic and the kinky stuff
> 
> thank you for sticking it out with me for this long--we're at the halfway point!!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the wait!! at least it wasn't as long as ch 9 ^^;;;

Lady Dimitrescu enters her room with you in her arms, shutting and locking the door behind her. The finality of the lock clicking into place has heat pooling in your gut.

She sets you down on the bed and kneels in front of you. The look in her eyes is positively primal, and she hardly seems to be paying attention to you as she dips her head for another taste.

She drinks from you for a long time, her tongue working inside you steadily--surprisingly so for how out of it she seems.

When she finally parts from you, her chest is heaving and her eyes are closed.

"Fuck," she swears softly. Her eyes open, and she looks at you with that still slightly-crazed look. "I won't lie, my dear--it's been some time since I've done that." She closes her eyes and hums low in her chest. "It was better than I remembered."

You nod, looking down at her as she seems to collect herself.

She wipes at her lips with the back of her hand, looking down with some form of shock to see the amount of blood covering her skin.

"Well," she says, _"that's_ unbecoming. I'll be right back."

She stands from her kneeled position and goes to the bathroom connected to this room. You can hear the sink turn on as she presumably washes the blood off of herself.

You wait for her, excitement gathering in your gut as you hear the sink turn off.

She reappears, her face and hands now clean. She stops in front of the bed before turning, looking back at you.

"Undress me," she says, motioning to the buttons down the back of her dress.

Your eyes widen and you stand, moving over to her quickly. Your hands go to the buttons and begin making short work of them. You soon come to a point where you can't reach the buttons higher up, so you get up on the bed and finish unbuttoning the rest.

You finish with your work and take your hands off her just in time for her to slide the dress off her shoulders, sending it pooling at her feet.

You take a moment to admire her strong back. The muscles there are well-defined and the stretch marks on her hips are silvery in the low light. Her skin is an expanse of alabaster that begs you to press kisses to it.

She looks back at you expectantly, watching as you have these thoughts. "Continue."

You nod and unclasp her bra with hands that shake slightly, sliding it gently off her shoulders. You get off the bed and gently hook your fingers in the waistline of her panties, sending those sliding down her legs as well.

She turns, and you nearly faint at the sight of her breasts. They're large, but you had known that. The sight of those same silvery stretch marks lining her breasts and her pale areolas were something you hadn't had the chance to see very often--she kept them covered most of the time before now.

She lets a slow smile spread on her face at your expression, before sauntering past you and picking up a bottle that you recognize. She pours a glass.

"Now," she says, turning back to you with a glass of wine. "Drink."

You reach for it hurriedly, knocking into her arms as she lowers the glass. The wine sloshes over the side of the glass, splashing onto-

"Well," she says, "we can't let good wine go to waste." She bends down, presenting her wine-covered breasts to you. "Clean me up, dear."

Gladly, you do. You take her breasts in your hands and set about lapping and sucking the wine off of them, lavishing attention on them with your tongue. You lick and suck her breasts, her soft skin, and the taste of her and the wine drives you mad. You take a nipple in your mouth and suck hard, delighting at the gasp she gives.

"Good pet," she murmurs. Her hand goes to your hair and pets you as you suck at her breasts. "There's a good pet. I knew you'd come to your senses."

You nod. "Yes, Mommy," you say, taking your mouth off one nipple to take the other in your mouth.

She hums appreciatively, and her hand tightens in your hair, holding you against her.

You continue licking and sucking and pleasuring her until she gently detaches you from her breast and presents the rest of the glass of wine.

"Drink."

You greedily grab the glass and drain it, relishing the burn and the thickness and the floral aftertaste. You look up at her for approval once it's all gone, and she smiles and pets your hair.

"Good girl," she purrs. "Here--lay back on the bed."

You clamber onto the bed and the feeling of the wine heating you up from the inside is familiar and welcoming.

She waits until you're settled back on the bed. After you're settled and ready, she climbs up your body.

You gulp as she settles above your face, the mattress dipping on both sides of your head. She's so tall and absolutely dwarfs you, and you feel a little ridiculous with her where she is. Initially, you wonder if she's going to crush you…but you dimly realize you wouldn't mind.

She looks down at you with a hooded gaze, her golden eyes boring into you, challenging you with their gaze.

"Show me your loyalty."

You grab her hips and bring her down against your waiting mouth.

She's absolutely soaked, that's the first thing you notice. You marvel at how worked up she got feeding on you, how much she lost control and composure. It isn't something you see often, but you find you enjoy it immensely.

"Come on, pet," she pants, "don't keep Mommy waiting."

You jerk back to reality and dive in. She lets out a groan as you go to work, lavishing your tongue across her clit again and again. She rocks against you, letting out little noises of satisfaction.

You trail down to her entrance, circling once before pressing your tongue inside. The groan it draws from her makes heat pool in your gut, and you lap at her entrance greedily.

She grabs you by the hair and forces you harder against her, working her hips against your tongue. You can't help but think that she's using you as a toy to fuck herself with, and you can't find it within yourself to care. You do your best to keep up as she fucks herself with your tongue.

She tastes wonderful, as always, and you let your eyes close with bliss.

She slows her pace, so you start up in response. You press your mouth and chin into her, rasping your tongue against her again and again in a desperate attempt to please.

She lifts off you for just a moment and you can't help but wonder why--you're given your answer as she holds you still by your hair and smears herself across your face. You let out a noise--not quite protest, more surprise--at the action, at the boldness with which she's claimed what's hers.

She seems spurred on by the noise you've made and comes down against your mouth again, resuming rutting against your tongue.

You let yourself get lost in it; in the pressure coming from her pressing down against you, in the taste of her, in the smell, in the pain coming from your scalp as she pulls your hair.

It's a bit surprising when her thighs actually start quaking on either side of you. You briefly worry about her collapsing on top of you when she comes, but you remember her inhuman strength and that worry is soothed.

Her grip in your hair tightens, and you can hear her breaths coming in quick puffs. You open your eyes and look up at her, drinking in the sight of her flushed face, her eyes tightly shut, and a look so aroused it almost looks painful. She takes a lip between her teeth and her head bows.

You pick up your pace, giving her everything she needs to come, everything she wants, desperate to please-

"Fuck, pet, fuck, _fuck-"_

Her back arches and she presses further into you, a low groan coming from her lips as she comes. You watch her, her head tilted back in ecstasy and her chest heaving.

She settles slowly, eventually rolling off of you and staring up at the canopy of the bed with wide, unseeing eyes--still panting for breath as she comes down.

You, for your part, make your way over and snuggle into her.

And she lets you. She puts an arm around you and brings you close, humming contentedly as she does so.

She's always been a little cold--never something that was an issue, or really even that noticeable unless you thought about it--but now she's warm to the touch. You find yourself enjoying it.

"Was that good, Mommy?"

"Yes, pet," she breathes. "Yes it was."

You lay by her patiently as she recovers. You want to broach the Claire subject now that she's in a good mood, but as soon as you have that thought, she props herself up on an elbow and looks down at you with a lidded gaze.

"Well, pet," she starts, "you did very well." You beam up at her, and she continues. "Would you like a reward?"

You think on this for a moment, your mind races, and you figure now is the best chance you're going to get.

"Yes."

She goes to kiss your neck, but you stop her. "About Claire."

Lady Dimitrescu goes silent, so you take the chance to continue.

"Please don't kill her."

She stays silent and thinks on this.

"She disrespected me," she says at last, pulling away from you. "And she put her hands where they didn't belong."

"Then…have a punishment that doesn't involve killing her."

"And what would that be?"

"Lashing? I-"

Lady Dimitrescu laughs, interrupting you. "I'm sure Daniela would enjoy that. Not as much as the alternative, but…" She closes her eyes, resumes her place on her back, and hums. "Fine, pet. Since you did so well, I suppose I can be lenient. Just this once."

You know she's trying to be intimidating and all, but you can't help a small smile.

"Thank you, Mommy." You hesitate, but press a quick kiss to her cheek.

She cracks an eye open and studies you for a moment. "What happened to me being a monster, my dear?"

You look at her and shrug. "I decided that it doesn't matter."

"And why not?"

You blush as you remember your thoughts, especially the thought that "she fucks so hard that it feels like your pussy got hit by a train."

She laughs before you answer. "There's a familiar blush. I think, dear, that your heart is as black as mine. Whenever confronted with the choice between morality and pleasure, you choose pleasure."

You can't argue with that, even though it makes you bristle to think that some might consider you a bad person for it.

You stay silent for a time, unsure of what to say.

"I'm glad you got over your brief bout of disobedience," she says, eyes now closed. "I'm glad you got it all out early on."

You prop yourself up on your elbows, looking at her. There's a thousand things you want to say, but none of them seem wise.

"I can feel your eyes on me, dear," she says.

"It's not my place," you say after a time.

"Good girl."

She opens her eyes and sits up. She catches sight of herself in the mirror and wrinkles her nose, setting about combing her hair with her fingers, trying to arrange it somewhat neatly.

It's something so small and unassuming, and it warms your heart in a weird way to see her so…normal.

She chances a glance down and catches you looking at her. "What is it, pet?"

You shrug. "You're just beautiful," you say.

She smiles and lifts her gaze, looking back in the mirror.

"Many have said that of me," she says after a time. "It's one of the more pleasant things to hear." Her gaze goes down to you again. "A lot of people say a lot of very mean things about me, you know."

"Like?"

She lifts her gaze back to the mirror. "That I'm all sorts of things. Witch. Vampire. Abomination."

You scoff at that last one, and it draws a small smile to her face.

"Monster is one people are fond of," she muses, and something in her face changes. She doesn't look at you when she says her next words. "I can stand many things, dear. What I cannot stand is being called a monster."

"Why?"

"What woman wants to be called such things?" She purses her lips in the mirror, no doubt noticing how her lipstick is hopelessly smeared. "I suppose that some people would consider me such, but there's better ways to put it. Heartless, for one. Cold. Cruel, even. Those I can stand. Monster?" She shakes her head.

You inch over and lay your head in her lap. "I'm sorry. I called you that when…" You trail off.

"Oh--I suppose in your mind at the time I deserved it." She sounds dismissive, but you can sense a depth of emotion behind her words. "Just see to it that you never use that word in regards to me again."

You nod, and rest your cheek against her thigh.

Her hand comes down and pets your hair. You relax under her touch, and take a moment to enjoy the feeling of her petting you.

"Here, my dear," she says after a time. She gently moves you so that you're off her lap. "Sleep well. I'll see you in the morning."

You nod, and watch her as she dresses, carefully putting on her dress, buttoning the back buttons with ease. She turns towards you one last time before she leaves the room, and though it's dark, you feel yourself make eye contact with her.

And then she leaves, and you're left by yourself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you've enjoyed!! and i just wanted to state here that i'm now vampiremilfs-r-us on tumblr if you want to stop by!!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well hello there!! new chapter time!! no weird and unusual kinks this time--just a bit more exhibitionism. I'm glad that the Soft got such a good reaction last time--there's going to be more!! just not in this one or the next one lol

It's been about two and a half weeks since you and Lady Dimitrescu have made up. She's kept you by her side constantly--not that you're complaining. It's nice spending time with her, even if you're not doing anything.

At the moment, you're sitting next to her desk, laying your head against her plush thighs as she works. This is a position you're in frequently, and you've grown to love it. You enjoy being by her side and feeling her pet your hair while she's going about doing whatever she's doing. Your eyes slip closed, and you let yourself relax under her hand, under her fingers carding through your hair.

"Alright, pet," she says. She sets her pen down and scoots her chair back. "I'm done for the day."

You beam up at her and nuzzle against her thighs. When you look up she's smiling down at you fondly. Her other hand moves and comes to pet your hair as well, smoothing it back.

"Now-"

The phone rings. She sighs, but takes her hands off you and answers.

"Dimitrescu residence." Her eyes close. "Yes, Mother Miranda. Yes, I'm available. I see. Yes, go ahead."

She looks down at you apologetically and mouths "just a moment, dear." She turns all her attention towards the phone call.

You lean against her, feeling slightly put out by the interruption.

Until you have an idea.

You turn so that you're on your knees facing her. You look up and see that with how concentrated she is on the phone call, she hasn't noticed the movement. You grin impishly and run your hands down her legs, finding the hem of her dress and hitching her skirts up.

Lady Dimitrescu ignores you and keeps speaking, moving one hand to push you away. She's strong, and though she doesn't push you hard, you still reel from the shove. Her attention turns back to the phone call.

You wait a few moments before trying again. You hitch up her skirts once more, nuzzling against her bare thigh.

She looks down at you crossly. She mouths "I'm on the phone," at you and pushes you away.

"Yes, Mother Miranda," she continues. "I'm still here."

You wait until her attention returns to the phone call. Her skirts remained ruffled from the last time, still exposing her thighs. You press a kiss to her flesh, eyes going to her face to see her reaction.

She doesn't change her expression at all, but she does turn towards you slightly in her chair. You'd be able to reach more of her thighs and possibly her center if you moved a bit…

You crawl under the desk, and you're surprised to find her scooting her chair back slightly to give you room.

"Yes, that sounds adequate. When will I be receiving this delivery?"

You press kisses to her inner thighs, grinning at the way her breath hitches when you do so. You kiss up her thighs, stopping right near her clothed sex.

Your eyes flick up to hers, and you see she's looking down at you.

"Yes, that's f-"

You give a long lick, pressing against her panties right over where she really wants you.

She falters briefly, and looks down at you with a warning glare.

"Yes, I said that was fine." Her voice is hardly different, except she's talking a bit stiffer than normal--as if keeping a tight rein on her voice so that it didn't betray her. "Yes, I'm sorry, there must be a bit of interference--you know how bad the reception is here. No, I can hear you clearly now."

Your hands run up her thighs and grab ahold of her panties, drawing them down slowly.

She allows you to do this, and even goes so far as to spread her legs for you.

You spread her lips with your fingers and tease her clit with your tongue.

"Understood," she says. That strained quality is intensifying. "Is there anything special I need to do once I receive this delivery?"

You press against her a little harder. She leans back in her chair, giving you more access to her slick folds.

"Yes, Mother Miranda, I'm fine. Please continue--I want to know if there's anything special this requires."

You tease her a bit more as she's listening to the other person speak, giving her pleasure and friction and everything she needs-

And then you stop.

"I'm terribly sorry, Mother Miranda," she says suddenly, "I've just realized that there's something urgent that I must attend to. Is there any way I could I call you back tomorrow?" There's a pause. "Thank you, I appreciate your flexibility. I'll speak with you then."

She hangs up the phone and there's not even a momentary pause before she's grabbing your hair and pulling your face against her.

"You," she snarls, "are in so much trouble. But since you started something, I expect you to finish it, and to do it right."

You flatten your tongue and rasp it across her clit. She snaps her hips forward in response, her hold on your hair tightening to a point where it's almost painful.

You lavish attention on her clit with long, broad strokes of your tongue. She tastes divine, as always, and you find your eyes fluttering closed as you pleasure her.

She's letting small noises and low groans drop from her lips, and each one is like music to your ears. Her sounds are better than any symphony, more lyrical than poetry, more pleasing to your ears than anything you've ever heard.

She tugs at your hair, and you focus back on what you're doing. You press your mouth and chin against her a bit harder, easing the pressure on your tongue by using the rest of the muscles in your neck. You find that you're not growing as tired as you had in the past, and you count that as a small victory.

You suck hard at her clit, and she lets out a groan that's positively sinful. You smile despite yourself, pleased with how much you're affecting her, how much you're drawing her out of her normally perfect, composed shell.

You continue licking, sucking, lapping, and pleasing her.

Your face is buried in her folds, your eyes are closed, and the feeling of her hand in your hair is a pain that's going straight to your gut.

You pull away slightly just to make her hold you tighter, and she does. A wordless growl leaves her throat as she yanks you back against her, giving you no room to pull away or stop--not that you would.

Your head starts spinning--partially because of the pain, partially because of the excitement. You grin against her and redouble your pace.

Eventually, you find yourself surprised as her thighs start to shake and tremble against where you're holding them. Her noises have gotten louder, more frequent, and a bit breathier than before. She holds you against her with that inhuman strength, as if you would ever consider pulling away.

You pick up your pace, pressing your tongue against her harder, licking a bit faster, desperate to please, desperate to make her come, to hear her come, to see her lose control again-

And she does. With a grip that practically pulls your hair out and a groan that resounds through the room, she does. She shakes and jerks against you, shuddering as you continue to please her with your mouth. Her head is tilted back in euphoria, and it's only when it comes back down to a normal position that you start to slow. You don't stop until her hand leaves your hair entirely.

Her chest heaves as she recovers, and you sit back on your heels, watching her with a hungry look on your face. You drink in the sight of her, her normally composed expression gone--replaced with something lust-drunk and primal. Her face is flushed, her lips are parted, and her eyes are lidded as she looks down at you.

She weakly pats your head before sagging against the back of the chair.

"Did I do well, Mommy?"

"Yes, pet," she breathes. "Yes, you did very well."

You beam up at her even though she's too scattered to notice. You nuzzle against her thigh and wait patiently as she works to recover.

And it takes longer than you would've thought. She sits and just breathes for a long time, one hand coming to lazily pet your hair.

Eventually, she looks down at you. She smiles…and it's nothing like her usual smiles. It's not wide and showing teeth--it's small. Barely a quirk of her lips. But it's a smile, and it's fond.

She pats your head, and that smile widens just a fraction. You're starting to notice that unlike most of her smiles, this one reaches her eyes.

"Good girl," she coos. "You did very well."

You smile up at her in return.

"However," she continues, "you did do that without permission."

"Am I getting punished?"

She thinks on this for a moment. "Only a little. It'll be something that I think you'll grow to like."

She stands from the seat and wobbles a little, apparently having stood slightly too soon.

You quickly rise from your place on the floor and steady her.

She looks down at you with another small smile and pats your head again.

If it meant she would keep smiling at you like that, you think to yourself, you'd break every rule in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well!! another chapter down, and a bit closer to the chapter that hasn't let me sleep since (checks watch) January 28th (ch 14)


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